The Helpless Case of Draco Malfoy
by It'sGonnaBeTotallyAwesome
Summary: Hermione hoped to start fresh after her breakup with Ron. However, she doesn't get the start expected when, the next thing she knows, Draco Malfoy's taking refuge in her flat and they're suddenly a 'couple'. When did the world decide to flip everything?
1. An Unexpected Run In

**The Unexpected Run-In**

Hermione Granger strolled along the sidewalk of Diagon Alley, window shopping for her new flat in London. She was excited to be moving our of her temporary - and very run-down - flat that she'd been living in after the war. Well, she guessed she couldn't really call it 'temporary', considering she'd been living in it for five years. Nevertheless, at twenty-two years old, Hermione was ready for a nicer place to live to go along with the nicer job she'd recently acquired.

Therefore, she needed more things to fill the bigger place, hence the reason she was in Diagon Alley. Right when she spotted a reasonably acceptable lamp, something else caught her eye. No, she wasn't one to stare and/or giggle at handsome men like a hormonal girl, but this particular man caught her attention. It was first because of his hair. She would know that hair anywhere, but surely it couldn't be . . . ? He was reading for one. He was also sitting at a tiny cafe. He was also in a very relaxed stance and was not making any rude comments to people around him. Not to mention, if Hermione hadn't taken a second glance and applied her previous knowledge to the face, she would've guessed he was a nice, handsome, intelligent fellow.

This is why she just couldn't comprehend that is was Draco Malfoy sitting at the nice little table outside of the quaint cafe. Anything 'nice' and 'quaint' shouldn't go into the same sentence as Draco Malfoy, but that's all Hermione could describe it as. He didn't look the same at all. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he _didn't_ have the snobby aura to him, but he just seemed different overall. He was in a casual white T-shirt with gray slacks and she again noted that 'casual' shouldn't be used to descirbe him, either. Not even his _hair_ was the same. It was still the same color, of course, but it wasn't styled into that disgustingly slicked back way - it was disheveled, unruly. And - oh, dear Merlin, he had _stubble_! Draco Malfoy had _stubble_! And it was _sexy_!

Oh, no. Now she was calling his hair _disheveled_ and _unruly_, and calling his stubble _sexy_. What had the world come to? She _never_ thought she'd apply _any_ of those words to Draco Malfoy, unless they were put into a sentence that went something like this: 'Hermione, Harry and Ron had watched Draco die a _nice _and _quaint _death in a _casual _manner, and his hair became _disheveled _and _unruly _as he fell to the ground in a _sexy _fashion.'

Ugh. That was certainly a disturbing sentence.

Hermione concluded that this whole situation was just not making her stable, so she needed to do something about it. During this little observation, Hermione had meandered over to the cafe, almost in a dream-like state, to the man she had been speculating for the past couple minutes.

"Draco Malfoy - reading?" Hermione mused in a sarcastic manner, her wits returning at the last second. "I never thought I'd come to see the day."

Draco turned his indifferent blue-gray eyes up to her and raised his eyebrows. "Well, well, if it isn't golden girl Granger," he replied dryly, shutting his book and laying it on the table. "What brings you here on a Saturday afternoon?"

"Shopping, obviously," she said, indicating her bags. "Although, I admit I wasn't expecting to see _you_ reading at a cafe in the middle of Diagon Alley."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "And why is that? You thought I'd be terrorizing people and banding together with physco Death Eaters instead?" he guessed a little too lightly for her comfort and many people around gave him wide-eyed glances. "No, no. I'm afraid I've changed, Granger."

"Yes, I see that by the way you still refer to me by my last name." she responded, pursing her lips.

"Merely an old habit," he insisted, waving his hand nonchlantly, "But I wasn't expecting you to believe me anyway."

She shrugged. "You were right."

He raised an eyebrow, studying her for a moment, before clearing his throat. "How're Wonder Boy and Weasel?"

She rolled her eyes. "Changed, indeed," she muttered, "_Harry _and _Ron _are fine, not that you actually care."

He eyed her curiously. "You and Weasley still dating then?"

She locked her jaw, feeling a pang in her stomach. She put her bags onto his table before putting one hand on the back of his chair and the other on the table. She leaned toward him menacingly and he stared at her with raised eyebrows, his mouth open in almost amused shock.

"Listen, _Malfoy_. Just because we're older and more mature now doesn't mean I forgot everything that happened during Hogwarts or how _good_ it felt to punch you in third year. If you have the _audacity_ to ask me about my personal life again, it'll give me the excuse to do it again."

She leaned back and grabbed her bags, ready to leave.

"Touchy." Draco noted lightly, supressing a chuckle.

"Shut up." she snapped, starting to walk down the street.

Draco grabbed his book and gracefully walked into step with her, grinning. "No, no, I'm enjoying this now. What happened?"

"I really hope you didn't think I was kidding about the punching thing." she muttered as she turned into the store that had the lamp she was looking at before.

"No, I don't doubt you, Granger, but . . . I'll take my chances," he explained, winking at her. She grimaced. "So? What happened?"

"None of your business, as I so kindly put it before." she said, exasperated.

She found the lamp she'd been looking at and lifted the price tag cautiously. She contemplated the slightly too-expensive price with pursed lips.

"It's ugly." Draco said suddenly.

Hermione snapped her head up to look at him, shocked. "What?"

"The lamp - it's hideous." he repeated like it was obvious.

She tried to keep her temper in check as she took a deep breath, finally turning her full attention to her arch nemesis. Or ex-arch nemesis. She hadn't decided on which he was yet.

"How about you go pester someone else, Malfoy? Pansy? Zabini? Have your pick."

"Blaise and Pansy are on a date, actually," Draco said, grimacing, "Which I have no intention of joining, and, besides them and my parents, I have no one else to pester . . . besides you."

"How lovely." she muttered, finally deciding to just leave the lamp. But not because Draco said it was ugly. Certainly not.

"So, where is this new place you're moving into?" he asked casually as they started to walk down the street and she gave him a bewildered look.

"What, are you planning on stalking me now? And - how did you know I was moving?"

"Granger, no one shops for lamps just _because_," he said exasperately, "And I was just _curious_, I wasn't planning on _stalking _you. . . ."

She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Just bugging you relentlessly until the day you die." he finished, grinning.

She glared at him. "Funny."

"Yes, I like to think so." he murmured happily.

"And I'm living in London."

He paused, frowning. "Muggle London?"

"Yes." she replied, watching him carefully out of the corner of her eye.

"Smashing. I am as well."

She stopped short, gaping at him. He took a few steps before he realzied she'd stopped and he turned around with a smirk. He knew she'd react this way.

"W-_What_?" she gasped, "_You_? In Muggle London? Is this a joke?"

"I'm afraid not," he said and walked towards her, his smirk widening. "I told you I've changed, Granger. Whether it was willingly or not, I've changed."

Well, if anything convinced her, _that_ did. Unless. . . .

"You're not - hiding, are you?" she asked suspiciously.

His eyes flashed and he locked his jaw. But then, his expression cleared and he smiled slightly, looking amused.

"Of course not." he responded lightly.

"Right," she said slowly, "Well, as fun as this was, I'm going to have to leave you."

"I'll get a raincheck on the Weasel scoop, then?"

She glowered at him. "You're infuriating."

And, without waiting to see his grin in return, she Apparated into her flat in London.

**XXX**

Draco Malfoy wasn't nessecarily in trouble, he just had nostalgic, phsycotic Voldemort-worshippers chasing after him. Him and every other 'Death Eater' who'd - gladly - let go of their service to Voldemort after he'd been killed.

So, if you called that trouble, then . . . yes, technically, Draco was in trouble.

However, his parents had been driving him crazy with their paranoia, so he'd moved out long ago, when he turned eighteen. He barely saw his father anymore, but he'd seen his mother for the first time in a long time only a week ago. Blaise and Pansy didn't know about his 'trouble', which is the way he preferred it. He also preferred to ignore it unless he was forced not to - in other words, if one of them broke into his apartment and tried to kill him. Then he was forced to dispose of them in one way or another. No, he didn't kill them. He'd Apparate them to various places tied up or he'd just curse them pretty harshly, leave them wherever the fight had taken place and relocate somewhere else.

Which brought him to Muggle London. Who would ever think Draco Malfoy would be living among Muggles and in _London_, the center of the bustling wizarding world? Although he did like to ignore his 'trouble', yes, he still needed a semi-permanent place to feel at least somewhat safe.

Draco walked into his flat later that night, slightly woozy from the amount of Firewhiskey he'd consumed. He would admit that, yes, he'd been drinking quite a bit these past few years - it did indeed make things seem easier for a short amount of time. He threw his coat onto the nearest solid object and collapsed into an armchair, cradling his head in his hand.

Hermione Granger. One whom he had always noticed, but never paid attention to. That is, until after she had punched him in the face in third year. Then he had sort of studied her whenever he wouldn't get caught. He thought she was audacious and atrocious, punching him and acting like she was higher than him. He hated her in a way, just for that.

What a fool he was. He hadn't hated her - he'd envied her. She was able to act upon something, to react to something that she thought was wrong. He couldn't do that, not with anybody - not with his father, not with Voldemort. He did as he was told. He did what was safe. That's why, secretly, he was rooting for the Light to win the war. Also because everyone knows the good guys always win - and Draco Malfoy liked to win.

Therefore, after the war, he'd changed, because, one, he'd been given the chance with Voldemort dead, and two, he wanted to prove, for some reason, that he wasn't like his father. He wasn't and never would be - he'd learned from Lucius' mistakes as well as his own, and Draco wasn't going back to the way he was before.

If only he didn't have bloody _Death Eaters_ chasing after him, he would have a chance to show everyone. He'd attempted to make an appearence today, and, of course, it was the day Hermione Granger would come up and tell him off. It was quite refeshing actually, it sort of brought him down to earth again.

That's why he wanted to see her again. He'd find a way - Malfoy's were very determined. Persistent. Annoying. And those were a few things he wasn't planning on changing. He -

"_Obscuro_!"

A blindfold wrapped around Draco's eyes and he cursed, standing. His wand was out in record time and he ripped off the blindfold right as a curse was flying his way.

"_Protego_!" Draco yelled.

His attacker stood in the darkened kitchen, just behind the living room, his wand pointing unwaveringly at Draco.

"_Crucio_!" he screamed.

Draco dodged it, but only barely, and exclaimed, "_Stupefy_!"

"_Protego_! _Impedementa_!"

Draco flew back against the fireplace with a sickening thud, and he groaned as he hit the floor.

"Draco, you coward - you fool," the man hissed, "_Sectumsempra_!"

Draco felt the gashes cut through his shirt, but it was nothing to hearing that spell again. Snape had told him it was -

"Yes, we learned some little tricks from Snape, that traitor," he chuckled darkly, then mocked him, "You really thought we wouldn't find you? _Us_, the Dark Lord'd servants?

"Voldemort is dead." Draco said, stumbling to a standing position.

The man howled in outrage. "_Avada K_ - "

"_Furnunculus_!"

The attacker cried out and fell to the ground as boils started to cover every inch of his body.

"_Stupefy!_" Draco exclaimed.

Finally, the man passed out, and Draco murmured, "_Incarcerous_."

Ropes tied themselves around the black-robed body and Draco caught his breath before actually taking action again. He felt the blood drip down his chest and knew he needed to make this quick so he could heal himself. He grabbed the mans body and Apparated him to a place he knew in New York, an alley beside a deli he once went to with his mother. Not a moment after he left the body there did he Disapparate back to his flat. He stumbled onto the couch, but found there was persistent knocking on the door.

"Is everything alright? Hello? Is someone in there? Has something happened?"

Granger. Draco quickly got over is surprise and struggled over to the door, swinging it open. Hermione stood there and, upon realizing who it was, she gasped.

"Malfoy?"

"Fancy seeing you here." he murmured, giving her a forced sarcastic smile.

"What _happened_?" she hissed, letting herself in and closing the door.

She put his arm around her and led him over to his couch, laying him down onto it. She quickly turned on the dim lamp on the table and turned her attention to his wounds.

"Nothing." he replied lamely, groaning as she gingerly touched a gash.

"Sorry." she muttered, then gently tore his shirt open where it was already ripped and took it off him.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were pulling the moves on me." he breathed weakly, smiling.

She gave him an exasperated look before pulling her wand out. "_Tergeo._" she murmured.

The bloody slowly disappeared as she ran her wand over the wounds and Draco was finding it was taking effort to stay conscience.

"No, no, don't fall asleep yet, you could have a concussion," she fretted, putting her hands on either side of his face, "I'll take care of it in a second."

He forced his eyes open and narrowed them playfully. "You sure you just don't want to have a nice chat with me?"

"You are impossible," she muttered, her eyes on his chest, "_Episkey_."

A cool feeling enveloped Draco and his chest didn't hurt so much anymore.

"I probably didn't do the best job, but - "

"Thank you." he breathed out, his eyes drooping.

She stared at him for a moment. "You're welcome." she murmured.

She made sure he didn't have a concussion (a nifty spell she'd learned when she went back for seventh year at Hogwarts) before letting him go to sleep. Afterwards, she didn't know what to do with herself. She was guessing this wasn't nessecarily the safest place for Draco, whatever situation he'd gotten himself into, so she Apparated him to her place. Obviously, it wasn't going very far, but it was better than his place. Luckily, she'd managed to Apparate right onto the couch, or Draco would've had a significant bump on his head. She sighed and was about to go to her bed, but then she heard him groan. She slowly turned to look at him and found, with wide eyes, that Draco Malfoy was having a nightmare. His eyes moved beneath his eyelids frantically and he shifted restlessly. It was such a . . . human thing to do, that it shocked her. She'd never really thought of the cruel, bullying Draco Malfoy she'd known at school to nessecarily do normal, _human _things, as naive as that was. But this wasn't the Draco Malfoy she'd known at school. She saw that now. She'd have to force herself to wipe the slate clean, because she couldn't resist helping someone in need, and, most obviously, Draco was in need.

With that thought in mind, she carefully sat down in an arm chair next to the couch and watched him until she herself drifted off to sleep.


	2. Mr Malfoy and I

**Mr. Malfoy and I**

Draco's eyes fluttered open, the sun shining directly into his eyes. He tried to sit up, but found he was extremely sore, and he groaned at his efforts. That was when he realized he wasn't in his apartment, and the memories from last night flooded back to him.

"_Shit_." he hissed, flopping back onto the couch with a hand over his eyes.

Then, he sighed and looked around the living room. Hermione was there, sitting in an arm chair. She was slumped low into the chair and her head was hanging to the side, supported only by her shoulder.

_She really _is _pretty_, Draco mused to himself, _not gorgeous, but certainly pretty._

He tried to sit up more, but a sharp pang went through his side and he collapsed back onto the couch with a grunt. He groaned again, trying to be more quiet - Hermione had helped him a great deal last night, after all - but when he looked back up at her, her eyes were already struggling to open.

She sniffed and straightened in her chair before she realized Draco was there on her couch. It was rather amusing for Draco to watch the emotions play across her face. First shock, then anger, then recognition, then dread, then acceptance. And then a smile.

"Good morning. Feeling sore, I presume?" she guessed, standing.

He watched her as she walked into the kitchen. "No, not at all." he grunted, painfully forcing himself into a sitting position.

She snorted as she pulled out the eggs and a bowl. The eggs started cracking, pouring and throwing themselves away when Hermione flicked her wand and then she turned to the bacon. Draco noticed that this seemed like a routine thing. He looked around the living room once again and noticed that things were still missing - he was guessing she either still hadn't moved some things or she was going to fill in the empty spaces later.

"Homey." he noted, slowly standing up.

He looked down at his chest and examined his wounds from last night. He knew the long one from his shoulder to halfway down his chest would leave a scar, but the rest looked like they would heal over time. He'd only been hit by that curse once before - all thanks to Wonder Boy Potter - and it hurt like hell, so he was not very excited that the Death Eaters were clued in on it.

She glanced at him. "Thanks. It's not finished yet, though - I still have to move some things from my old apartment, and I'll have to do it the Muggle way, for obvious reasons."

"You mean, actually bringing them here in an _automobile_ and _carrying _them up the stairs by _hand_?" he asked in mock horror, his eyebrows raised as he shuffled into the kitchen. He felt the muscles in his chest and back tighten in protest, but he ignored them.

She chuckled. "Yeah. I bet that's frightening for you."

The eggs that were now done scrambling themselves tossed its mass onto a plate before gliding over to Draco. He frowned at it appreciatively, then looked at Hermione, who was using a contraption called a 'mickeywave' - he had to read 'Muggle Inventions for Dummies' before he moved into a Muggle flat - to heat up the bacon.

"I like your mick-ey-wave." Draco said, pronouncing 'mickeywave' very clearly. (Although, he bet she couldn't hear him anyway, considering his mouth was full of scrambled eggs.)

She turned to him with her eyebrows raised and her mouth open in shocked amusement. "My what?"

"Your mickeywave." he repeated distractedly, stuffing more food in his mouth.

She forced herself not to smile and nodded in recognition. "Right. Um, Draco, it's a microwave. Not a mickeywave."

But he wasn't really paying attention. He looked at her in awe. "You just called me Draco." he realized.

She frowned. "Well, yeah. I only call you Malfoy when I'm mad at you. _I've_ grown up." she explained, smirking at the last bit.

He raised an eyebrow, forking some more eggs in his mouth defiantly. "Fine, _Hermione_. I was just _saying _- it sounded weird."

"It sounds weird when you say my name." she pointed out, grabbing the bacon out from the microwave.

"It feels weird saying your name - Hermione," he agreed, "Can I have some of that bacon, Hermione?"

"Quit it." she warned him, handing him two pieces.

He smiled, looking down at his plate. Then, he swallowed as the memories came crashing down again from last night.

"Thank you, again. For helping me." he said quietly, not meeting her eyes.

She didn't answer for a long time. "You can stay here, Draco, if you'd like. If someone's looking for you, they wouldn't suspect you to be living with Hermione Granger." she joked half-heartedly.

"No. I couldn't do that to you. Sworn enemies or not, no one wants to go through what I'm forced to." he muttered, saying more than he'd meant to.

"Draco," Hermione said, agitated, and walked forward to the bar he was sitting at. "I'm friends with Harry Potter. I lived through years of constant, never-ending danger and fear. I think I can handle it."

Draco was relieved she wasn't asking what the hell happened the night before, and he suddenly felt extremely grateful for her. The thought made him uneasy, so he pushed it away.

He studied her for a long moment, contemplating her offer. Sure, she had a point, but he didn't think she realized what she was getting herself into - pretty much the same thing she'd been getting into with Potter. Maybe on a smaller scale, but still.

He sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know, Gran - er, Hermione." he said, clumsily correcting himself.

She nodded, grabbed his plate and started rinsing it off in the sink. "You can move into the guest bedroom. It's down the hall, across form the bathroom. Mine's next to it, if you need me."

**XXX**

Draco brought only his clothing back into Hermione's place and took care of putting his flat back up for sale. (After cleaning it, of course.) Two days after, Draco finally got around to folding clothes into the drawrs. The last two days had been filled with either moping around by himself while Hermione was at work or bickering with her. Luckily, it was Saturday and Hermione was home, so that morning, while he was mulling over what he'd gotten himself into once again, Hermione appeared in the doorway.

"You know, maybe showing yourself is a good idea," Hermione mused, "That way, if you went missing or something, people would know about it."

He frowned, throwing a folded shirt into its designated drawr. "How would they know?"

"Have you seen the Daily Prophet lately?" she asked dryly, "They practically stalk Harry, Ron and I. I'm sure you'd be no different - you're well known, too."

He snorted. "Not for the best reasons."

"But if you were seen with me . . . ?" she trailed off, her eyebrows raised.

He raised his eyebrows back, pausing in sorting his clothing. "As in, a couple?"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far, _Malfoy_," she said, pursing her lips, "but we could just pretend to be friends."

He smirked. "Not bad, Granger, but then my little stalkers would know where I lived."

"You're sure they'd try attacking you when there's someone else around?"

"Not exactly, but - "

"Then it's better than sneaking around, isn't it?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I suppose so. . . ."

"And you could get a job, maybe."

"Don't get too crazy, Granger." he snorted, returning to sorting his clothes.

"Well, you can't just expect my hospitality forever." she pointed out with a testy look at him.

He glanced at her. "Right. I'll look into a job offer I saw at a bookstore yesterday."

"A bookstore?" she repeated.

"Yes, a bookstore." he sighed, feeling a wave of teasing coming.

She paused, holding back laughter. "Alright, then. We'll go out later this afternoon."

"So soon?" he asked as she walked down the hall.

"What's the point in waiting?" she inquired over her shoulder.

**XXX**

"What - how - why - _what is this_?"

Hermione and Draco were walking innocently along Diagon Alley when they were ambushed, and it was by the two people Hermione had been trying to avoid with this whole siuation. She closed her eyes in dread before turning around, Draco reluctantly following suit.

Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley stood there, gaping at the two. But Hermione knew it was not a good gape - it was a very bad gape.

"Uh, hi, Harry, Ron." Hermione stuttered, instinctively sliding one step away from Draco.

They continued to throw death glares at her. Well, it was more of Ron threw death glares at Draco while Harry threw death glares at her. It was almost like they'd planned this out. Hermione frowned.

"We were just . . . taking a stroll." Draco explained, failing miserably at innocence.

This was a big problem. Harry and Ron couldn't find out about Draco's situation - she didn't even know about it, for Melrin's sake - because it was too risky.

"What is this?" Ron asked again hastily, waving his arms at the two of them.

"Erm, well, Draco and I . . . we're . . . " Hermione couldn't get the word 'friends' out. It was too much. She wouldn't be able to see them again. They'd disown her. Kidnap her. Totally and completely ex-communicate -

"We're a couple." Draco finished, sliding over to her and putting a hand around her waist.

Hermione stood stock-still for a moment, but she knew she had to play off it, or they were dead. She forced a big smile and patted his shoulder a little too hard.

"Yes. Draco and I are . . . dating. We're a couple." she agreed.

Harry and Ron continued to gape.

"Hermione?" Harry asked in a slightly-too-nonchalant voice, "Could we, uh, talk to you alone for a moment?"

"Of course." she said with clenched teeth through her smile.

She shot her best death glare at Draco before following Harry and Ron across the street and into a large clothing store. She braced herself for the torrent that was an angry Harry and Ron, and -

"What the _bloody hell_ are you thinking?"

"Are you _insane_?"

"Malfoy, Hermione? _Malfoy_?"

"_Ronald_, hold on just a moment -" she tried, but -

"You've completely lost your mind, haven't you?"

"Alright, let me just - "

"Maybe we should just kill him." Ron suggested to Harry.

"Or just kidnap her and refuse to let them see each other."

"Or - "

"OKAY, I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY!" she yelled, and many people glanced over at her, alarmed. She gave them a fleeting smile, which they grimaced and looked away from. "Alright," she tried again quietly, blowing hair out of her face. "I am . . . dating Draco, whether you like it or not. You have not right to tell me who I can and cannot fancy, understand? And don't forget it, or I will unleash my . . . womanly fury onto you. Yeah?"

They stood, shocked. Harry and Ron seemed to be doing a lot of gaping lately.

"Hermione, we're just trying to help," Harry finally offered, "I mean, it's not like you have the best taste in men - "

"Hey!" Ron protested.

"And you have no room to talk, Ronald Weasley, after what you did to me, you toerag!" Hermione blurted loudly, scowling. Only after she realized what she said did her face slip into shock, almost mimicking Ron's. Harry looked torn between surprise and amusement.

"So, there," she finished breathlessly, backing out of the store. "I'll see you later, Harry, feel free to come by my flat anytime . . just know that Draco's living there," she said that last part a bit rushed and refused to flinch at their newly angered expressions. "And Ronald . . . I just - really don't want to see you anytime soon," she admitted, then, before she walked out the door, she gave them a curt wave. "Right. Bye, then."

She walked out of the shop, and found a group photographers waiting for her. She sighed and ignored them and their questions.

"Did you, Harry and Ron get into a row, Hermione?" one lady asked as if they were personal friends.

"Is this the end of the Golden Trio's friendship?"

"Is it true you and Draco Malfoy are dating?"

Hermione stopped abruptly and turned to the voice. A stout man stood there, suddenly meek, glasses that were too small for his face perched on his nose. He shuffled his feet under Hermione's gaze as she contemplated his question.

"Yes," she finally answered, "Yes, we're a couple, Mr. Malfoy and I."

There was a silence.

Then, another bout of questions erupted and Hermione stood there, her eyes wide. Then, someone tugged her hand and she saw Draco there, grinning falsely at the photographers. He dragged her along the sidewalk, but the photographers followed.

Hermione smiled her fakest smile at Draco. "I am feeling so much _hate _for you right now." she muttered.

"Oh, darling, I love you, too." he said loudly, and the photographers erupted once more.

Hermione tightened her hand around his into a death grip. "I will kill you, Malfoy."

He just laughed and put his arm around her shoudlers, seeming very at ease with all the uneasy things happening in his life.


	3. You and Me

**You and Me**

"ARE YOU COMPLETEY MENTAL?"

"Please, dear, you'll wake the neighbors."

"STOP CALLING ME THAT OR I SWEAR, I WILL KILL YOU!"

"Okay, okay, Hermione, just calm down."

"CALM DOWN? _CALM DOWN_?"

This was not looking very good for Draco, not in the least. Hermione stood in front of him when they got back to her (or, their, technically) flat, and she was, very simply put, infuriated. Her face was red and her fists were clenched, one holding her wand, which kind of made him want to cower in the corner, but of course he never would - he was a Malfoy, after all. Yes, he saw the irony in that.

Draco didn't see what the big fuss was about, really. So they had to hold hands and all that rubbish in public - so what? It'd probably keep the Death Eaters away even more, the way he saw it. If he was going to be seen in public, he might as well put on a show.

When he tried to explain this to Hermione, however, she hadn't taken it very well.

"Okay, I'm sorry. We'll just tell them we broke up, and - "

"Harry and Ron will never belive that," Hermione said breathlessly, pacing with one hand on her forehead and one on her hip. "We'll have to go along with it, and look _happy_ about it! Oh, dear Merlin, I even told them you were living here! And - oh, Merlin, I can't take this - "

"Okay, okay, let's just - come over here," Draco said, trying not to sound completely freaked out at her behavior. He gently took her elbow and lead her over to the couch, making a frightened face behind her back. "It'll be okay - we don't have to do anything you don't want to do - "

"We're not about to have _sex_, Draco, just - don't talk to me!" she exclaimed hastily, waving him away.

"Right." he muttered and backed up, trying not to sound amused that Hermione Granger had just said 'sex'.

"No, come here," she exclaimed again, waving him back over, "We need to come up with a background story now."

"Right." he muttered again, coming back over to sit beside her.

"So," she breathed, seeming to try and compose herself. "how did we meet then?"

"Er - it won't be that hard, I guess. I mean, we could just have the story we do now, except it happened longer ago, and, well, with more romance. We met how we really did meet, I suppose, and it turned out I conveniently had the flat above you. We formed a friendship, then a relationship, and all that, and here we are."

She frowned. "Okay. Well. What do we do now?"

"Well, the night's still young. How about we go out to dinner - make a romantic public appearance?"

"By the way you screamed your love for me back there, I doubt we need to make another appearance."

"Well, I'm hungry, and you look in no shape to cook. How 'bout it then?" he asked, standing.

She eyed him warily.

He rolled his eyes. "C'mon, don't you trust me?"

"No, not at all."

"Fantastic. Let's go."

**XXX**

"Hm. I've never heard of this place." Hermione noted, frowning, "Doesn't Le Poisson mean 'fish' in English? Why would you ever name a restaurant 'fish'?"

"Don't ask me, Hermione, I didn't name it," Draco said, tugging her along by the hand, "Come on, stop staring at the sign."

"But that fish looks so pretty, how it's all lit up like that - "

"Hermione."

"Sorry, coming."

They walked into the grand restaurant, which was on a street in Diagon Alley she'd never been down before, and the host with a straight black moustache and dull eyes looked at them. He immediately perked up when he saw Draco.

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy, we have your table ready, sir."

"Thank you."

He pulled out two menus and weaved through the candle lit tables toward the back, and Hermione leaned over to Draco.

"How - did you already make reservations or something?" she asked.

"No, I still come here very often, though." he replied.

"In between the times you're getting attacked." she added, smirking.

"Just stayin' classy, Granger." he joked, grinning.

The host pulled out Hermione's chair and she sat in it, looking around as she did so. The place screamed expensive, with it's stark white table tops, lit candles, and golden architecture - just the kind of place Draco would like to go.

Ah, there they were. The photogrpaher who had surely followed them there. Those people had nothing better to do with their lives - they were paid for stalking, and Hermione for one was very irritated.

"We have company." she murmured, scanning her menu.

"Yes, I see him," he replied, scanning his menu as well, "Give me your hand."

"No."

"Yes."

"_No_."

"Yes."

"I will not give him what he wants. I'm rebelling."

"You can't just not show affection to your boyfriend."

She tried to refrain from glaring at him and took his hand over the table. "_Fine_. But I'm not happy about this."

"I'm aware."

"And I'm especially mad at _you_ for getting us into it."

"You've made that crystal clear."

"Good."

"May I get you some drinks?" said a waitress who just walked up.

After they ordered their drinks, Draco rolled his eyes at Hermione, who was subtly glaring in the general direction of the photographer.

"C'mon, Hermione, don't let the night revolve around him. What happened to rebelling?" he asked.

She sighed. "You're right."

"Let's see . . . how about you tell me something about you that no one else knows. Not even Wonder Boy or Weasel." Draco challenged, raising his eyebrows.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And why would I ever trust you with such a thing?"

He shrugged. "You find out why. It's your reasoning."

She studied him for a minute, before finally saying, against her better judgement, "I've always loved to sing."

His eyebrows shot up. "Sing?" he repeated.

"Yes."

"You sing?"

"Yes."

He leaned back in his chair. "Huh. Guess I never pegged you as the singing type."

"Yes, well . . . "

Luckily, it was then that the drinks came and Hermione gratefully sipped her wine. They ordered their food, too - Draco, the steak and Hermione, the pasta.

"What about you?" she asked, setting her drink down.

He studied her thoughtfully. "My favorite subject's Defense Against the Dark Arts."

She wasn't sure if it would be acceptable to laugh at the irony in this, so she tried her best not to.

He rolled his eyes. "Laugh all you want - just know you're a horrible person."

"I'm sorry," she laughed, "But don't you see the irony in that?"

He sighed. "Yeah, I do." he muttered.

She gave him a reassuring look and they sipped their wine.

Then, Hermione almost spewed it out.

There was Ron, across the room, getting seated with his beautiful girlfriend. She set her wine glass down hastily and gripped the table, trying to get herself under control.

Wendy. That was her name. She had the perfect body - skinny with curves in all the right places, and sleek blonde hair with ice blue eyes. That's what all men wanted, right? She was one who Ron had cheated on her with, three months ago - after all that they'd been through together, after he'd convinced her fully that he cared for her. It didn't make a difference.

"Er, Hermione? Does your wine taste okay? Do you want another?" Draco asked, sounding worried - she wasn't looking at him. She couldn't take her eyes off them now, smiling, laughing, holding hands over the table.

She stood abruptly. She couldn't sit anymore - she just coudn't stay in the restaurant anymore. It was so stuffy, she felt like she'd explode. Her breathing was becoming ragged and now Draco really looked worried. He stood, too, grabbing her shoulders to keep her steady.

"Hermione, what's wrong? What is it?" he asked, panicked.

She looked up at the happy couple again, and it all seemed to go in slow motion after that - Ron glancing at her, then doing a double take in shock. Her looking back to Draco, and him looking down at her with his worried blue-gray eyes. Her doing the first thing that came to mind - putting her hands gently on the side of his face, leaning forward, and pressing her lips softly to his. Her deepening the kiss when he didn't respond quickly enough. Him finally sliding his hands around her waist, pulling her extremely close, and her running her hands through his hair.

Hermione wasn't aware of how long they stayed like this, because, frankly, she wasn't in quite the right state of mind, and also quite frankly, she was rather enjoying herself.

Then it all came crashing down.

She detached herself from Draco's tight grip with a gasp, touching her hand to her lips. She was aware the photographer was taking pictures now and she was _very_ aware Ron was gaping at them, so she forced a breathless smile and grabbed her bag.

"Draco, I've got to go." she hissed in his ear.

"What . . . ?" he murmured in a daze.

She shoved his shoulder in the lovely couples' direction so he could see what she saw, not really caring if it was obvious, and then he 'ohh-ed' in recognition.

He put a hand on her lower back and murmured in her ear, "I'll meet you back at the flat after I've sorted everything out here. You alright?"

She swallowed and looked down at her feet. "No." she whispered, then stepped away from his touch, Apparating back to their flat. She collapsed onto the couch.

That was the first time she'd seen Ron with Wendy publicly, ever since she'd found them snogging on _their_ couch in _their_ flat. He then proceeded to explain to her the truth, hoping it would make it better.

It made it worse.

He'd been sleeping with her for two months before that day, and he thought it'd be better if they went their seperate ways. At least they agreed on that. She'd barely talked to him since, except for the other day when him and Harry had seen her with Draco.

"Oh, God." she breathed, putting her head in her hands and rocking herself back and forth.

And then the tears started coming.

She hadn't let herself cry over Ron since the day she found out, but now it all seemed to be flowing free.

They were happy together. Ron didn't need her in his life - perhaps he never did.

Perhaps he never would.

**XXX**

Draco got the food taken to go and was bouncing on the balls of his feet in the waiting area in the front of the restaurant. He didn't know what the bloody hell had just happened with Hermione, or _why_ he had liked it so much, but, either way, someting wasn't right. He didn't know why she did it - for the Weasel or for the photographer or for herself, but, to be honest, he didn't really care. He quite enjoyed it.

But he knew it wasn't because she cared for him - that wasn't in the picture. It's not like he had romantic feelings for her, either, but he figured he _could_ possibly in the future. He frowned at the thought.

Weird.

And that was when things started to go badly.

He glanced up when he noticed sudden movement and saw the Weasel striding over to him, not exactly looking jolly. Draco leaned against the wall and prepared himself, heaving a sigh.

"What are you playing at, Malfoy?" Weasel hissed, shoving Malfoy.

Malfoy steadied himself, raising an eyebrow. "Look, I don't know what's going on with you and Hermione, but I know she definately isn't your biggest fan. And she's with me now, so you don't have to right to get all territorial," he said, rolling his eyes. "And you should also know there's a photogrpaher over there for the Daily Prophet, snapping pictures of this lovely encounter, so show your pearly whites for the public."

Weasel set his jaw and glared. Luckily his back was to the photographer. "You hurt her, and I'll kill you."

"From what I gather, _you're_ the one who hurt her," Draco said, and thanked the host when he handed him the food. "Now, if you'll excuse me - my girlfriend's waiting."

And Draco Apparated away, leaving Weasel's enraged face behind. He landed in the kitchen, and he noticed all the lights were off. He had figured Hermione went to bed - until he heard the sobs coming from the living room.

Draco wasn't the kind of guy to console a girl when she were upset, however git-ish that may be - it was messy business. It just wasn't his thing and he definately presumed he wasn't good at it, but he felt the need to, especially after what had happened back there.

"Hermione?" he said quietly, setting the food down and walking into the living room. Only the moonlight coming from the windows illuminated her tear-drenched face, and she didn't look up at him. She put her face in her hands and shook her head.

"I'm - sorry." she said between sharp intakes of breath, her voice muffled.

He swallowed and sat beside her hesitantly. "You know I don't blame you. And I owe you anyway for taking me in and stitching me up and all that."

"You don't owe me anything." she protested quietly, taking her hands away from her face and leaning against her elbows.

There was a short moment of silence in which Draco waited for her to say something. She didn't.

"So . . . what was that about? Not that I didn't enjoy it, but . . ." he joked lamely.

She snorted and stared intently at her intertwined hands. "I'm sorry about that, I know I must've killed a little piece of you soul right then." she half-joked.

Draco rolled his eyes, leaning back into the couch. "Hardly. You actually turned me on a bit, Granger."

She glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow. "Those are the kind of things you keep to yourself, Draco." she sighed like he was a child.

"So?" he prodded, "I think this would be an appropiate time to spill the beans on Weasel."

She swallowed and looked down at her hands again. "You're right," she said quietly, then took a deep breath, then continued, "Well, after the battle. . . ."

And she proceeded to tell him the whole story. How they were seemingly a happy couple, then how Hermione had found Weasel and Blondie snogging on their couch one day (Hermione had come home early to surprise him), then how Weasel had explained him and Blondie had been sleeping together for two months, and how, thank Merlin, him and Hermione immediately split up.

Draco was somewhat surprised at how angry he got - he wanted to curse Weasely into the next millenium. . . . or just a good punching would do the trick.

Draco cursed and stood, pacing. "I can't believe he'd do that to you," he ranted, not even paying attention to what he was saying, "What kind of person - "

"Draco," she said in a surprised tone, "it's alright. I'm . . . I'll be okay."

"Yeah, well, we'll just teach him how it feels, yeah?" he said, offering his hand to help her up. "You and me."

She half-smiled and took his hand, standing. "You and me."


	4. No Strings Attached

**No Strings Attached**

_Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy Together - Weasley Jealous?_

_ Has The Golden Trio Broken Up For Good?_

_ Harry Potter Has No Comment for Granger's Relationship with Malfoy_

_ Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy Seen Together Once Again_

_ Granger and Malfoy Getting Serious_

The headlines over the next month seemed to revolve around the surprising new 'relationship' between Hermione and Draco. If they only knew. . . .

They actually had become very comfortable with each other during the past month, spending everyday together and whatnot. They didn't even have a problem now with showing displays of affection when the papparazzi thought they'd caught them in a 'personal moment'. They'd created a tradition of some sort - going out every Teusday, eating take-out on Sundays, and they ate Hermione's mediocre cooking the rest of the time, but Malfoy was convinced it was 'splendid'.

They also enjoyed categorizing themselves on their nights out. For example, whether they were going to be the 'sickly sweet, head-over-heels couple', the 'sexy "under-cover agent" couple', the 'awkward teenage couple', et cetra. It was actually rather fun, and the paparazzi and the rest of the public who creepily followed their relationship completely believed it. It was somewhat unnerving, really.

However, Hermione had a couple rules, such as: no tongue, no groping, and no other such things. She didn't want people seeing that, first of all . . . and she also didn't trust Draco any differently.

She had been successful in avoiding Ron and even Harry, but she knew it was only a matter of time. Harry was probably getting tired of giving her space, and a month was a long time for them to not see each other.

It was only a matter of time - with everything.

**XXX**

Hermione sighed and plopped the Daily Prophet down on the counter. "Well, we've made quite a spectacle of ourselves."

Draco came over with his coffee to inspect the pictures of him and Hermione at dinner the other night, and of Draco kissing her over the table.

"You know, I really like those pants I was wearing," he noted, only half-joking, "The gray brings out the blue in my eyes, don't you think?"

She elbowed him, laughing. "Draco!"

"Sorry - well, to be honest, I don't really care." he said, shrugging as he collapsed onto the couch, almost spilling his hot drink everywhere.

She sighed and turned back to the paper. "Of course you don't," she muttered, "You don't even care that you're being chased down by Merlin-knows-what."

"What was that?"

"Nothing." she said innocently.

"So, what are we doing today?" he asked, shrugging it off.

She turned to him and frowned. "I don't know, actually. I've got work again, but I get off at five. We could have dinner out, if you want."

He groaned. "What am I supposed to do while you're gone?"

She gave him a look. "Finally get a job?"

**XXX**

"So if you have any openings, that'd be grand." Draco said, tapping his fingers in mindless beat on the counter.

The teenage girl behind the counter nodded, looking extremely bored, and pulled out an application. "Fill it out, and I'll give it to boss. To be honest, I'd be happy to give you my job."

Draco cast a look around the dusty book shop and all the books that weren't put in their proper place and slightly grimaced. "Yeah, I'm sure you are." he muttered, then shoved the application in his pocket and walked outside.

He was about to walk across the street to fill out the application at the cafe across the street when -

"What the _fu _- "

He was pulled roughly by the arm into the shadowed alley, and had a Silencing charm put on him. He was shoved against the brick wall and one of the two hooded men looming over him pressed his hand to Draco's throat.

"Think you're safe just because your messing around with the Granger girl?" the taller one who was holding his neck hissed, "Don't get too comfortable."

"You can't run forever." the other one snarled.

Draco managed a smile. "Says who?"

"You cocky little - "  
Draco took a blow to the stomach then, and went to double over, but the hand was still at his throat. He choked, and the two men snickered.

"Not so tough now, are you?" sneered the taller one.

Then, the other punched him across the jaw, leaving Draco's head hanging. He could taste the blood in his mouth and knew his lip was bleeding.

"We'll be watching, Malfoy."

And they Disapparated, leaving Draco choking for breath, doubled over. When he finally straightened, he spit blood from his mouth, still breathing heavily.

"Fuck."

**XXX**

Draco decided it was best to apply for the job despite what had happened, so Hermione wouldn't bite his head off. He was rather unnerved by the encounter, but of course he wouldn't let that show. He'd just . . . go on like it never happened - until he had he had to deal with it, which would very likely be the last minute.

He was trying to figure out how to work the big black box when Hermione walked through the door, and she laughed at him. He glanced at her and scowled.

"How the hell do you work this thing?" he exclaimed frustratedly, "I've tried knocking on it and talking to it and everything!"

Hermione put down her purse and took off her coat, a smug, amused expression on her face. "Draco, you should probably wait for me until you try to work Muggle objects," she advised and laughed as she bent down to look at it, "I hope you didn't _break_ it, that's my only one."

"Yes, well. . . ." he muttered distractedly, actually enjoying the view of her backside.

She glanced back at him and rolled her eyes. "Good God, Draco, you're such a man," she sighed, and waved him down next to her. "Look - this is how you turn a television on." she said slowly, grabbing his finger and using it to push the biggest black button that had the words 'ON' above it.

Moving pictures immediately appeared and he stared up at it in joy. Hermione glanced at him, amused.

"You just want to watch TV tonight?" she asked.

"What's TV?" he asked absently, still grinning up at the television.

"Another name for a television." she answered, grinning.

He nodded in a daze. "Yeah."

"Okay," she said, standing, "I'll order the take-out. I think you'll like this one show called 'That 70's Show'. . . ."

**XXX**

Four hours later, with empty take-out boxes lying on the coffee table in front of them, the two of them were laughing their heads off at some joke the character Fez cracked. Hermione was so caught up in the moment she didn't even notice how close they'd gotten, and when she looked up to see his face, she realized his lips was mere inches from hers. Her smile faded away as she was suddenly overcome with a feeling deeper than just lust, a feeling she'd felt around Draco before. . . . She attempted to shove it away, but she found she couldn't, and she cound't stop staring at him. When he glanced over at her, he did a double-take at her expression. His eyes became darker and her lips parted absentmindedly.

And then they were kissing each other deeply, neither of them knowing where it had come from but neither really caring at that point. Draco ended up on top of Hermione on the couch, and he was starting to unbutton her top when -

"Oh, Merlin's balls!"

They both gasped and scrambled into sitting positions to gape at the person who'd interrupted them. The sound of the audience laughter in That 70's Show echoed in the background.

"Oh, _shit_." Hermione hissed.

Ron stood there with a hand clamped over his eyes, looking genuinely frightened. Hermione rolled her eyes and buttoned her blouse back up, and glanced at Draco, who looked like he was about to punch Ron in the face. She sighed and stood, grabbing Ron by the elbow and bringing him outside her apartment door.

"What the hell do you want, Ronald?" she hissed, closing the door behind her.

"I - just wanted to _talk_ to you." he said quietly, finally looking at her, and his face fell. "You're still really mad at me, aren't you? You only call me 'Ronald' when you're really mad at me."

No matter how angry Hermione was with Ron, she still - curse her soft soul - had a place in her heart for Ronald Weasley. Despite all that he'd done to her - he was still Ron, and she could never forget that.

She sighed and pressed her lips together, refusing to succumb to him. That's what brought about the first disaster.

"Ron, you could've gave me a little heads up," she said through her teeth, "And you are certainly not permitted to Apparate into my flat uninvited at random times in the night!"

"I'm sorry, I - I just . . . couldn't stop thinking about you."

Hermione had been so caught up in shock that she forgot she was supposed to angry with Ron. Hopefully it seemed she was as happy as him in her 'relationship'.

She glared at him. "Don't _even_ do this, Ron. You have a - girlfriend." she said, about to say something else along the lines of 'whore', but she thought better of it. She'd moved on, hadn't she? It'd been four months . . . wasn't that enough time?

"I know, I just - Hermione, hypothetically, if I wanted you back - well . . . " he trailed off, shrugging. His message was clear.

She looked at him with such a sadness, it almost startled her more than it did Ron. "Ron, you . . . you need to sort out what you want, because you have to understand one thing right now - I'm not waiting here for you. I have someone, but I . . . I still love you. I do," she said, putting a hand to his cheek, "but you broke my heart, and I don't think I could ever be with you again."

Tears welled up in Ron's eyes and he whispered, "I'm sorry, Hermione. I am."

And it was the first time she felt he meant it.

"If you still care for me, Ron, you'll let me be with who I want," she said, "and you'll try to accept him. Just like I'm trying to accept Wendy."

He hesitated, but then nodded. She nodded back and drew him into a hug. When she let go, he gave her one last look and a goodbye before he Disapparated. She sighed and blew her hair out of her face, walking back into her flat. She closed the door and stood there for a moment, becoming happier and happier at what had just happened.

"Okay," she breathed, "that went better than I thought it was going to."

"Are you talking to yourself?" came a chuckle, closely followed by its owner.

Draco walked into the foyer with his hands in his pockets and smirked at her. She swallowed thickly, suddenly becoming breathless.

"Okay, this," she said airily, gesturing hastily between the two of them, "isn't healthy - for our situaiton."

He came closer to her and she backed up against the wall. He cracked a half-smile. "Am I making you nervous, Granger? We've kissed plenty of times."

She could feel her heart beating fast as he dangerously close to her, and she had nowhere else to go.

"Not like this, Draco, and you know it. This just isn't logical, to have this kind of . . . _real_ relationship - it's only for the public, and so your followers won't be so inclined to - "

Draco slid his hands up onto each side of her face and he murmured, "If I kiss you, will you shut up?"

She didn't try to conceal her fast breathing now, and searched his eyes helplessly, before nodding quickly. "Uh-huh."

And he kissed her like she'd never been kissed before, and they stumbled into her bedroom, laughing giddily when one of them would almost trip. He slid his hands underneath her shirt as he backed her up through the bedroom door, and he laid her down on the bed.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on." Hermione breathed, putting a hand on his chest.

He groaned, putting his forehead to hers. "You really need to recognize the moments when you just aren't supposed talk."

She smiled breathlessly and said quietly, "No strings attached with this, yeah?"

He met her gaze and after a moment, he nodded. "No strings attached."

And then, she let him kiss her softly, before they became deeper and more passionate.

Neither of them knew that they felt exactlly what the other was feeling - that weird tugging in their gut, like they had just made a decision that some part of them didn't agree with.


	5. Desperate Denial Leads to Nothing

_A/N: Hello, everyone! Merry Christmas! It's a white Christmas where I'm living, and it's wonderful! I wish you all the best, and thank you to everyone who's reviewed/alerted/reading this story, it means the world! :) _

_ Happy reading, and merry Christmas! :D_

**I Slept With Draco Malfoy and It Was Amazing**

Hermione woke to the sunlight streaming through the window and she blinked rapidly, sitting up with the sheet wrapped around her. She rubbed her eyes with one hand and held the sheet up with the other before she glanced sideways at Draco, who was still sleeping. She smiled at him with his disheveled hair and his sexy stubble that had freaked her out that day in Diagon Alley.

She turned away from him momentarily to grab a robe that was strewn on the floor and wrapped it around herself. Then, she climbed back onto the bed and kissed his chest, then his neck, and then his lips.

"Draco," she murmured against his lips, "Wake up."

His eyes blinked open and she smiled, leaning back a bit.

He smiled at her. "Hi." he said, his voice rough with sleep.

"Good morning." she replied, scooting over to let him sit up.

He put a hand on her cheek and leaned over, kissing her softly.

"I'm going to go make breakfast." Hermione said, smiling.

He nodded, studying her face with a slight smile. "Alright. I'll be there in a couple minutes."

She got up off the bed and walked out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen. But then she stopped in her tracks when she saw someone sitting on the living room couch.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, putting a hand on her pounding heart, "You nearly scared me to death! What are you doing here?"

Harry smiled with a raised eyebrow, standing from the couch. "I just came to check in. You must've figured I'd be here soon. I miss you - you've been spending all your time with Draco."

She raised her eyebrows. "You called him Draco." she noted.

He shrugged. "Ron came by last night and told me what you said about trying to accept who you want to be with, and I think you're absolutely right," he admitted, pushing his glasses further up his nose. "We should trust your judgement, and we were just being arses this whole time."

She grinned. "Thank you, Harry."

And she was suddenly hit by the feeling that this seemed _real_. Like she really _did _have to convince Ron and Harry to accept Draco, because he really _was_ her boyfriend. But that was not the case. She was just doing . . . a favor. A friendly - and very hefty, she might add - favor. Was this crazy of her to do? Yes, she'd become friends with Draco - or something like friends with Draco now, but - oh, no.

"Oh, no." she murmured her thoughts, putting a hand to her face.

She never did things like this. She never slept around - ever. Well, of course she didn't, she'd only been with Ron up until five-ish months ago. But she never expected this of herself - she didn't think anyone did. She didn't want to become this kind of person.

_But you _do_ fancy him,_ whispered a voice inside her head, _You wouldn't have done it if you didn't._

_Damn you_, she thought back menacingly.

"HELLO? Hermione?"

Oh.

_Oh._

"Oh - oh, Harry, I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I just got lost in thought."

"Yeah, I was calling your name for, like, five minutes," he said, giving her a 'you're-crazy' kind of look. "I was hoping for a celebration or something - you finally get what you wanted, yeah?"

She swallowed and nodded, smiling tightly. "Of course, Harry, thank you."

She brought him into a hug and then let her face relax into how worried she really was behind his back, holding him tightly. Her rock - Harry was her rock. One person that would never change; he would always be like her brother, and he'd always be there for her.

"Is this a moment we're having?" he joked lightly, chuckling, "Because I figure you must be choking me for a reason."

She chuckled, too, and let him go. "I'm just really grateful for you, Harry," she said, smiling genuinely at him. "I love you."

He smiled. "I love you, too. Just be careful with Draco, alright? He _is_ a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake." he advised half-jokingly.

She snorted. "Trust me, I know. Now, get going before Ginny starts worrying. And tell her we all need to have dinner sometime, alright?"

He nodded. "Sounds good. See you, Hermione. Tell Draco I say, er . . . hi."

She laughed. "Get out of here."

With a wink, he Disapparated, leaving Hermione alone in the living room. She bit her lip and walked into the kitchen, getting breakfast ready absentmindedly.

So, she'd finally admitted it to herself - she fancied Draco. But could never admit it to him. _He_ was only doing the relationship thing so he'd get away from the people chasing him more effectively. And he's slept with her because . . . well, because he just thought it'd be fun? She didn't really know - she didn't think she _wanted_ to know, really.

Because she had a sickeningly realization just then - if Ron had easily broken her heart, Draco would be able to do it even easier.

She had said it, though. No strings attached. That way, she wouldn't get hurt. She couldn't let her feelings progress for him - she'd just push them away, maybe even go out with a couple other men. . . . Except, she couldn't do that because of her little stalkers. Well, she'd figure out something. She had to. She wouldn't let herself get hurt this time - it was too painful before.

**XXX**

Draco whistled as he slipped into his clothes after his shower and walked with a bounce in his step to the kitchen. His plate was waiting for him at the bar, but Hermione was nowhere to be found. He frowned and took a piece of bacon with him as he went back to the hallway, knocking on her bedroom door. It opened suddenly to reveal a very frazzled-looking Hermione, who was hopping on one foot as she tried to get her other heel on. He watched in amusement as she glanced at him and was about to say something, but then seemed to forget something and quickly went back into her room to grab her purse. She hurried back to the door and stopped before him, taking a deep, short breath.

"I have work." she said decisively.

"Okay, I'll see you later than." he said, and leaned down to kiss her, but she dodged him and walked down the hallway quickly towards the fireplace.

He made a confused face at her retreating back, and he followed her slowly with a raised eyebrow.

"Hermione," he said in a knowing tone. "What's wrong?"

She stopped before the fireplace and stood there for a moment before turing back to him. She bit her lip and looked at him almost pleadingly, her hands into fists at her sides. He waited patiently, though he was curious.

"No strings attached." she said, almost like it was to herself.

He raised his eyebrow again and repeated slowly, "No strings attached."

She nodded again and went to work through the Floo.

He threw up his hands in exasperation and shook his head. "Bye, then!" he called sarcastically, then muttered, "_Women_."

Hermione walked quickly towards her office in her wing of the Ministry - the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, on the fourth floor. She sighed when she finally shut the door to her office, slid her bag off her shoulder and collapsed into her chair, her head in her hands. She was in a reasonably high position in her department, being one from the top - the top being a woman named Katherine Hughes - but she preferred it that way, she figured. She still got a hefty pay, if she did say so herself, and she was aware that if she did take over the top position, her workload would be doubled.

She didn't even know if she would stay in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures much longer, anyway. She'd joined after the war to have a break from all the evil wizard rubbish, but, frankly, being involved in chaos like that was sort of a part of her. She'd just been so distracted with Ron that she didn't even bother trying to transfer until a more calmer state in her life.

_That way, I could get it all screwed up again, like normal,_ she thought sarcastically with a dry chuckle.

There was a knock on her door, and Hermione straightened, hastily busying herself with papers on her desk. Her secretary, Julie, walked in, who Hermione had to tell everyday to button her top another button. Julie was, in very loose terms, well, loose. She usually wore what would be deemed inappropiate to work, and Hermione would insist she change (though she had insinuated in many times) had she not been aware that, for almost the entirety of the day, Julie sat behind a desk. Hermione never made Julie get coffee for her or any of that rubbish - she felt horrible when she did so, and reasoned she herself could just as well get her own coffee.

"Come in." she called out, clearing her throat when she found it was stratchy.

Julie walked in with a tight black, high waisted skirt and blue silk button-up top on, and she walked over to Hermione's desk, putting some papers on her desk. Hermione glanced up at her and sighed.

"Julie, _please_ - "

"Yeah, sorry, I'll button it up." she sighed and buttoned her blouse up appropiately. She was about to leave when she gave Hermione a double take and sported a surprised smirk, her hands on her hips.

Hermione frowned and grabbed for the papers, glancing up at her briefly again. "What?" she asked.

"Boss, you smell like sex." she said in a tone so surprised, Hermione should have very well been offended. But she wasn't - just embaressed.

"Erm - I don't know what you're talking about." she muttered, bowing her head and signing the papers she'd given her.

"Who was it with?" she asked, putting her hands on the desk.

Hermione bit her lip. "Julie, I _have _a boyfriend."

"Oh, my _God_, I totally forgot!" she exclaimed, "Draco Malfoy, duh! You guys have been in _Witch Weekly_ nonstop! Oh, my God, he's _hot_! Was last night the first night you had sex with him? It's been a over month - you were really taking your time!"

"Julie!" Hermione hissed and shook her head, exasperated. "Keep your voice down!"

"C'mon, give me the details and I'll leave you alone, I promise." she pleaded, helping herself to one of the chairs across from Hermione's desk.

Hermione sighed and put her palms onto her desk, finally meeting Julie's expectant, excited gaze. "_Fine_," she muttered, and took a deep breath before blurting, "Itwasamazing."

Julie giggled, leaning forward. "What?"

"It was amazing!" Hermione exclaimed too loudly, and bit her lip.

Julie laughed. "Boss, you're so funny," she said, standing, "I'll bet it was amazing, I'd give anything to - "

"_Julie_." Hermione warned.

"Right. Sorry, boss. I'll be outside if you need me."


	6. And Then There Was Damon

** And Then There Was Damon**

Hermione was about to rip her hair out when one of her co-workers walked in, Damon Winston. Damon was a nice guy who was a year older than her - he had gone to Durmstrang, and was quite the handsome fellow. He had sandy blonde hair that always seemed to fall the right way - she had a suspicion he made an effort to do so every morning - and he had bright blue eyes that always seemed to twinkle in amusement. Hermione had also had a feeling - along with Julie, who never let her forget it - that Damon had a crush on her, ever since about half a year ago . . . but, since she'd been involved with Ron, and then, well, not so involved with Ron, she hadn't pursued it any further. And now - well, now there was Draco.

Not that she had any feelings for him, of course. No strings attached. Strictly friends with benefits.

Damon grinned and studied her closely as he flopped into one of the chairs across from her desk. She sighed and looked up at him with a smile that was just a tad bit stressed.

"Doing alright, Hermione?" he asked with a slight chuckle.

She sighed once again and sorted some papers out as she replied, "Fantastic. And you?"

He chuckled again. "Alright, what's wrong?"

"Just . . . work," she muttered, then looked up at him curiously, "Did you need something?"

"No, I was just checking on you. Julie told me you were having a stressful day," he admitted, then rolled his eyes, "That girl really needs to find someone else to flirt with, she's driving me just a little crazy."

She laughed lightly. "Well, you know her. I swear the Ministry enforced that dress code because of her."

They both laughed, and then Damon stood, saying, "Well, I just wanted to drop in. I'll leave you to your work - but, darling, try not to rip your hair out."

She gave him a look, smirking. "Shut it, Winston."

He winked at her, chuckling, "Take it easy, Hermione."

Then, he left her with her still-hefty workload. But Damon still brought a smile to her face. She laughed once more before resuming her work.

**XXX**

Hermione Flooed back to her apartment and she put her things down by the door. She heard the TV from the living room, and knew she would have to walk past it to get to the hallway of their bedrooms. She made a face as she looked around the corner and saw Draco there, lounging on the couch. She bit her lip as she tried to tip toe past him, but she was unsuccessful when one of the floorboards creaked.

_Damn._

He turned and she feigned innocence, smoothing down her skirt. He smirked and turned the TV off, standing with his arms crossed over his chest.

"'Mione," he said in warning, "Don't try to sneak past me. I know something's up. Tell me."

"Don't know what you're on about, but, erm - want to watch the last episode of 'Freinds'?" she tried, laughing nervously.

He walked towards her, but she dodged him, heading towards the TV.

"_Hermione_," he muttered, "Would you stop it? Talk to me, woman."

She sighed and turned to face him. "Draco, I just . . . I'm scared."

He raised his eyebrows. "Of . . . of what?"

She swallowed and bounced lightly of the balls of her feet nervously. "I don't . . . no strings attached, yeah?"

He stared suspciously at her. "How many times exactly have we been over this? Look, Hermione, I get it, you're not ready for a real relationship. That's fine."

"It's not _that_, it's just . . . well, yeah, it's that. And, with us, it'd just be weird, you know? With this situation. . . ." she trailed off, shrugging.

He nodded, though he looked a bit uneasy. "Agreed. Now, can you come kiss me now, before it starts to get awkward?"

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't just hand kisses out for free, Draco, you have to _earn_ them."

He sidled toward her slowly, smirking. "Oh, yeah?"

She backed away. "Yeah, and if you think I'm one of those girls, then you can just forget the 'benefits' part of our friendship."

He bit his lip to hide his smile. "Oh? Well, what would I have to do?"

She smirked. "Make me dinner."

"Make you dinner?" he repeated, his eyebrows raised.

"Yes."

"Fine," he said, "Dinner it is. But you've been warned, by cooking skills are not exactly the best."

"What do you mean by that?"

**XXX**

Two hours later, they were left with not only an absent dinner, but with a kitchen smelling of smoke, a burnt attempt of lasagna in the oven, over-cooked steamed broccoli in the sink, and mashed potatoes that had exploded everywhere in the microwave.

Hermione and Draco stared at the wreckage.

"How did this even happen?" she asked in shock, for she had been taking a nap after a long day at work during this fiasco. The smoke had woken her up.

"It's all kind of a blur." he admitted dazedly.

She sighed, shaking her head. "Order take-out while I clean this up, you useless bum."

"Hey, I tried, you heartless witch." she chuckled, pouting.

She rolled her eyes at his pitiful sulking and waved her wand, everything zooming back into order. She glanced at him and he was still moping, leaning against the wall with his arms over his chest.

"I said order take-out, Malfoy!" she said, smiling at his over-done helpless expression.

When he realized his pouting wouldn't work, he looked up at her with a smirk. "Not until I get my kiss."

She scoffed. "Yeah, right - you nearly burnt the kitchen down!"

She walked past him to get the telephone, but he snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her to him, putting his lips to hers. She didn't fight against him, and smiled at his efforts. She put her hands on his chest and pulled back, smirking.

"You're still a useless bum."

He chuckled, "You're such a pain, you know that?"

"The feeling is mutual." she laughed and he pulled her back to him.

**XXX**

When Hermione was closing up at work the next day, she was actually in a better mood then the day before. Since her and Draco had sorted out their relationship enough to where she was convinced, she felt things were looking up.

But what was still bothering her was that she blushed when she thought about his lips on hers.

And that his smile made her smile, no matter what.

And that her favorite thing was on weeknights when they watched their favorite TV shows with her head in his lap

And that seeing him at the end of the day was what kept her going.

"Stop it," she scolded herself quietly, "That is . . . perfectly normal for a friends with benefits relationship."

There was a knock on her door and she glanced up. "Come in."

Damon walked in - he looked especially handsome today, she noted, and she shouldn't feel guilty about it. . . right? - and smiled at her, closing the door behind him.

"Closing up, then?" he asked, walking over to her with his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah," she said, pushing her hair out of her face and grabbing her bag, "And you?"

"Yeah, already did," he said, gesturing back the way he'd come. Then, he paused before casually saying, "So I heard you were dating that Draco Malfoy bloke."

She nodded. "Yeah, well, don't see how you could miss it, what with it all over the papers and magazines and all that rubbish."

He chuckled. "Sorry to hear that," he murmured, then paused before continuing, "So is it serious enough that you think he'd be pissed if I invited you to a friendly dinner?"

This caught Hermione off guard. She hadn't been expecting this - this hadn't been in the cards.

But then maybe . . . maybe this is just what she needed. She just thought it the other morning, about the dating other guys thing. But - the bloody paparazzi.

She smiled sadly. "I think it'd be fine if not for the paparazzi. They're really a pain."

"No worries. I know the perfect place." he assured her.

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you now? You're not going to take to me some secluded field and kill me or anything, are you?" she joked.

He grinned. "Muggle London, where only the most Muggle of Muggle people roam."

She laughed, nodding. "Well, that suits me fine. I am a Muggle-born, you know."

"And I am, too, so we should fit right in."

She nodded and took his offered hand. "Let's go, then."

And as they Apparated into an alley next to the restaurant he was taking her, she didn't even think Draco would be worried about her as he waited for her back at the flat.

**XXX**

Hermione and Damon tried to keep their laughter quiet in the tiny cafe, but found it was difficult.

"Okay, it's official, you have the worst taste in music." Damon chuckled, shaking his head.

"What?" Hermione scoffed, "Gertrude and the Pigmypuff's are good!"

"Oh, Merlin, Hermione, they're horrible," he exclaimed, rolling his eyes, "They're voices are so off-key there should be a record, they wear fur hats onstage, and I'm pretty sure they were still around when my grandfather was born."

Hermione laughed hard, letting her head fall back, and glanced at the time. She was surprised when she found it was almost nine. They'd been there for three hours? Really?

"Oh, Damon, the time," she said, catching her breath from her laughter, "I'm sorry, I - I've got to go."

"That's fine, I'll get the check." he said with a reassuring look.

She nodded and bounced lightly in her chair as they waited. Damon chuckled at her and shook his head.

"You need to loosen up, 'Mione. Stress is a killer."

She let out a breathy laugh and shrugged. "So I've heard."

When they finally could go, Damon offered to Apparate her to her door. She accepted, and the next moment, they were there at her door. She looked down at her feet, suddenly feeling very guilty with Draco on just the other side of the door. But should she? They weren't even really a couple . . . but Damon thought they were. What did that say about him? Well, he did ask. Would Draco be angry?

_No strings attached,_ she reminded herself.

"Hermione," Damon murmured, and she looked up to meet his blue eyes. "Don't worry. I'm not forcing anything on you. This was just a friendly thing, alright?"

She nodded, smiling. "You're too good to be true, you know that?"

He let out a chuckle and shrugged. "Not so sure about that, but . . . " he trailed off.

Hermione shook her head exasperatedly and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. She pulled back and smiled, and his eyes twinkled as he smiled back.

She put a hand on his cheek. "I like you, Damon, really, but . . . "

"But you like him more." he finished for her, even if that's not what she was planning to say. She really wasn't quite sure what she was going to say, but that worked.

"I'm sorry." she whispered, sliding her hand off him, but he caught it and brought her hand to his lips.

"That's alright. Really, Hermione. We can be friends." he said and dropped her hand.

She smiled one last time at him, murmured a goodbye, and entered her flat, closing the door behind her. She set her things down on one of the bar stools and was so lost in thought she didn't even notice Draco standing in the middle of the living room until he cleared his throat.

She looked up at him in surprise. "Oh. Hi."

"_'Oh, hi'_," he repeated exasperately, "You're late three hours and all you give me is an '_oh, hi'_?"

She sighed. "_Funny_," she muttered, stepping down into the living room. "For your information, I just had a date. So, sorry for - "

"A what?" he gasped.

"A date." she repeated, frowning.

"But what if the paparazzi - "

"We went to a Muggle cafe in London," she said, "I swear, we kept it simple."

He nodded hesitantly, and sighed, "You know, Hermione, I don't want to hold you back. I don't want you to have to put your love life on hold or anything, it's not fair, and - "

"But you're a part of my love life." she blurted in confusion, and sighed when she realized what she'd said, closing her eyes.

"What do you mean?" he asked, and she could hear the frown in his voice.

She swallowed and opened her eyes to find him walking towards her. She put her hand up hastily. "No, please, just - I might as well explain now, and you should stay over there so I'm not . . . distracted . . . or anything."

He frowned and stayed where he was, waiting expectantly.

She looked down and licked her lips anxiously before looking back up at him. "When I said that I wanted a relationship with no strings attached . . . that was because I was scared, not because I didn't want more," she admitted quietly, and was falling into even deeper mortification when tears started falling down her face in anticipation of what she was about to admit. "And I do want more with you, Draco, and I - I know you're not - that you don't like me like that, but . . . that's okay, I'm not ready anyway, because . . . because if Ron had broken my heart without even hesitating, then why wouldn't you, you know? And so I was scared and confused, and Damon's so sweet, and he likes me, and I . . . I didn't know what to do, so that's why I just went on . . . a date . . . with him. . . ." she finished lamely, feeling the strength of words slipping her. Why would he care about any of this? Sure, they'd become friends, but that was it to him. That was it, so why was she taking the time to explain why she didn't want to be more than friends? She should've just left it as it was.

She refused to look at him and fiddled with her hands. "Yeah, that's all. And that probably didn't make sense, so I'm just going to go die in my bedroom under my covers, so . . . bye."

She tried to hurry past him, her hair curtaining her face, but then she felt his hand brush her arm and take her hand. Her head snapped up so fast she was surprised she didn't pull a muscle - and it was a good thing she didn't, too, that'd be even more humiliating - and saw his face. It was an odd mixture of surprise, determination and fondness.

"Hermione." he whispered, brushing her tears away with his thumb.

"Draco - I can't." she said, backing away to the hallway.

Then, she proceeded quickly to her room, where she indeed burrowed under her covers, but she didn't die, of course.

She just cried her confused, terribly wimpy, little heart out.


	7. Talks and Tension

_A/N: Hey, folks! So, I just wanted to let you know thst school's coming back up, and so updates might not be as frequent - this one's a little later than normal because of multiple things (the holidays, family, all that stuff) so sorry about that. _

_ But, once again, thank you to everyone who's supported this story! You guys are awesome. :)_

_ Happy reading!_

**Ex-Death Eater, Son to Lucius Malfoy, Enemies in Command**

Draco was walking along the streets of Diagon Alley with his hands in his pockets, thinking about Hermione. She'd been gone when he woke up, and he had a feeling she'd be doing everything she could to avoid him when she got home. Well, he wasn't going to let that happen. He knew what he wanted, and it was her - and Draco Malfoy always got what he wanted, one way or another.

He had gone to the library and found that he didn't even have to give lady in charge an application - she hired him on the spot. The teenage girl behind the counter, whom he found was named Xanthes - though he really doubted that was her real name - told him it was because the fifty-year old boss thought he was 'smoking'. Draco just grimaced and shrugged before he said he'd be back after lunch to start. She'd popped her gum and gave him some smart answer, to which he just rolled his eyes and left.

He stood in line at one of the smaller cafes, where he found he could have the most privacy. He was third in line when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Draco Malfoy? Bloody hell, is that you?"

Draco came face to face with none other than Blaise Zabini.

"Blaise?" Draco asked dumbly.

Blaise laughed and clamped him on the back. "How's it goin', Draco?"

Draco laughed a little, shrugging. "Fine - great. You?"

He laughed. "C'mon, let's get some food and we can talk more."

**XXX**

Hermione walked to her destination as calmly as she could, but she couldn't promise she dind't break out into a run at some points. But finally she made it to Ginny's office. Her door was open and she was calling to her secretary to contact someone for her. Hermione knocked on the doorframe and Ginny looked up, then grinned.

"'Mione!" she exclaimed, hopping up and tackling her in a hug.

She laughed, hugging her back. "Ginny, it's been too lo - "

"Where the bloody hell've you been?" she exclaimed, laughing as she let her go to look at her face. "It took Harry _and_ Ron to hold me down so I wouldn't barge into your apartment and steal you! And _Malfoy_? You're dating _Malfoy_! Bloody hell, Hermione!"

"Ginny, slow down, slow down." Hermione chuckled, sitting her down.

Ginny grabbed her hands, her eyes alight with anticipation. "Well? Tell me everything."

Hermione hesitated. "E-Everything?" she said absentmindedly.

Hermione was already lying to Ron and Harry about all this. She didn't know if she could lie to Ginny, too.

"Well, yeah, of course." Ginny said with an unfazed smile.

Hermione cleared her throat and nodded. "Okay. Just brace yourself."

**XXX**

And Draco told him everything. And by everything, he meant _everything_. As in, the truth. He didn't know why - it just sort of comforted him to have somene else know. It was driving him just a little crazy.

Hermione was going to kill him. But he'd deal with that later.

After he finished, Blaise leaned back in his chair and let out a low whistle.

"Damn, Draco. You . . . are in quite a situation." he said, chuckling.

Draco huffed and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm glad I've _amused _you."

"Okay, I'm sorry," Blaise said, trying to control his chuckling. He leaned forward with his best serious face and nodded. "Alright, then. So, Hermione Granger - who is now extremely hot - ow, don't hit me - and extremely rich - _ow,_ Draco. . . . And, _you're _. . . fake-dating her?"

Draco frowned. "Yeah, I suppose. It's sort of complicated."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you've had sex - "

"_Blaise_."

"And she told you she has feelings for you or something like that. And you like her, yeah?"

"Er, yeah." Draco replied, not really sure where this was going.

"But you have phsycotic serial killers out to get you?" he said, his jaw tight from trying his hardest not to laugh.

"_Yes_,you bastard, and it's creepy that you find that funny," Draco snapped, and rolled his eyes when Blaise burst out laughing. "I know it's crazy. Merlin, I know. And she has to live with it, too."

Blaise caught the expression on his face and his laughter faded. "Whoa, mate. You really look like you care about her."

Draco cleared his throat and shook his head quickly, shifting uncomfortably. "I was just, er - thinking. Sorry."

Blaise smirked and speared his food, sutffing it in his mouth. "Yeah, whatever."

**XXX**

Ginny was silent for such a long amount of time, Hermione was about to call St. Mungo's. However, when Hermione started to really panic, Ginny lashed out and grabbed her arm.

"Hermione, this is big. Like, really, really big." she said breathlessly.

"What, that I'm friends-with-benefits with Draco Malfoy? Yeah, I know." scoffed Hermione, sighing a sigh of relief at her friends recovery and sitting back down.

"_No_," Ginny hissed, rolling her eyes. "That people are chasing after him, 'Mione! They might be Death Eaters! Merlin!"

"Well, I don't _know_ if they're Death Eaters - " Hermione tried.

"Hermione Granger, have you lost your senses? You should've gotten to the bottom of this in the first place," Ginny said frantically, "Why'd you even help him? You didn't know him - he was the same old Draco Malfoy for all you knew!"

"No, he was different, I could just tell - "

But Ginny wasn't listening anymore, she muttering lowly, "I should call in Aurors and have them look into it right away."

Ginny hurried back to her desk and began the hectic sorting of papers she called work and Hermioen bit her lip apprehensively.

"Shouldn't we check with Draco first?" Hermione asked meekly.

Ginny looked up at her sternly. "This is out of his hands now. It's out of your hands, and my hands, too. We haven't had an occurance like this is two years, and we're going to diminish it. We'll start tracking them as soon as possible," she said, then looked down at her papers. After a moment, she glanced up with a smile, and said brightly, "Oh, yeah, and how about dinner tomorrow night, yeah?"

Hermione stared. "Er - well, erm, yeah. Yeah, that's fine, Gin. Let me know what you find, okay?"

Ginny nodded. "Of course. And, for Melrin's sake, bring Draco in here as soon as you can. We'll need to get information, if any from him."

"Er, okay." Hermione muttered.

He was _not_ going to like that.

**XXX**

Draco walked into the flat and wasn't expecting to see Hermione there - so he was surprised when she _was_ there, of course. She was in the process of hanging up her coat and looked back at him when he entered. He kicked the door shut distractedly and studied the look on her face. This wasn't an 'it's-still-awkward-because-of-last-night' look, this was an 'I-have-news-that-you're-not-going-to-like' look.

He really hated that look.

"What's wrong?" he asked anxiously, taking off his coat and scarf but not taking his eyes off her.

She swallowed and wrung her hands in front of her nervously. "Well, erm, I went to see Ginny today. . . . "

"Yeah. . . ."

"And we talked and stuff, and - and we're going to have dinner with her and Harry tomorrow night. . . ."

Draco sighed in relief. "Oh, that's - fine, I guess. Not as bad as I thought, I mean."

She smiled sadly. "I'm not done. I, er, told her everything."

He paused. "Everything, as in the truth?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, well, good, because I told Blaise everything."

"Blasie Zabini?" she asked, then paused. "You have friends?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I suppose. I just bumped into him today and told him everything - it's okay, he can be trusted."

"Trusted with what?" Hermione muttered.

"What was that?" Draco asked like he didn't hear - he didn't want to get into this.

"Draco," she sighed, "tell me what's going on. I have to know, and you know it."

"Er . . . what are you talking about?" he tried lamely.

She stared.

He sighed. "I'll tell you after you tell me what's going on with Ginny."

She glared, but finally said, "Fine. I told her some people were chasing you, and she got Aurors looking out for you, and searching for whoever's wanting to kill you. She also wants you to go in for questioning."

He blinked, and then, "Are you mental?" he exclaimed, his eyes wide, "For all she knows, I'm still the same little douche bag prick from school! She could think this is all a huge plot, like I'm one of them, trying to kill you!"

"That's the point of the questioning, Draco, to make sure you're innocent," Hermione said clamly, yet a tad bitterly, "and she'll find out what you know about the mystery people chasing you, and then you can leave."

"I don't know anything," he protested, "If I did, don't you think I'd be somewhere _else_, _killing_ them?"

"Killing them?" she repeated softly, looking down at her hands.

He hesitated, realizing his mistake. "Hermione, I was just overexaggerating - "

"I'm going to go make dinner." she said quietly, walking into the kitchen.

"Dammit." he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Then, he walked into the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe, watching her. She glanced up, but otherwise ignored him.

"Hermione," Draco prodded, "I promise, I didn't mean it."

Hermione sighed and set down the vegtable she was cutting and looked up at him calculatingly, her eyes narrowed. He didn't like that look, either.

"You know, Ginny had a point. I barely knew you when I let you live here," she said, almost scoffed, shaking her head. "And you _could've_ been one of them, plotting to kill me in revenge or something."

"Yeah, I suppose I _could've_ . . . but I'm not." he said, frowning.

"How am I supposed to know that?" she asked quietly, loking down at the bloody vegtable.

"Hermione, will you look at me?" he asked irritably, and when she obliged wearily, he continued, "Just - please, tell me you trust me, because if you _really_ think I'm plotting to kill you, we have a problem."

She swallowed and her expression started to soften, so he took his chance to try and persuade her.

"And if I wanted to kill you, you do realize I have had countless oppurtunities?"

"Maybe you wanted to win me over, so it would hurt more, then explain to me why you did it, and then kill me." she explained, shrugging.

He gave her an experated look. "Oh, come on. That only happens in movies."

"Hey, you got the Muggle name right." she said lightly, smiling.

He smirked. "Yes, well, I have an excellent memory."

She snorted. "Yeah, right. Don't think I forgot the mickey-wave incident."

But Draco didn't retort, because he knew the fight had died down for now. After he went into questioning, he'd be done with that, and, better yet, the Aurors had his back now. The only reason he didn't go to the Ministry in the first place was that he thought it was proposterous that they would ever believe anything _Draco Malfoy_ said. Especially since Harry Potter was first in command in that department, and Ginny Weasley was second. Especially since his father was Lucius Malfoy. Especially since he was an ex-Death Eater.

Yes, the list could go on and on. But now that he had Hemrione sticking up for him . . . maybe this just might work. And, also on the bright side, he didn't even have to tell her that it truely was ex-Death Eaters chasing after him, and that there were many still out there that the Aurors haven't caught yet. . . . He didn't want her to know - she'd dealt with enough in her lifetime.

The thing that was really bothering Draco lately was . . . did the Death Eaters have a new leader? If they did, first of all, that'd be really bloody bad, because that meant they were getting an organized system again, but also . . . who the hell was it?


	8. We Need To Talk

**Cracked Foundations**

"We need to talk."

The dreaded words. But Draco knew that Hermione meant them differently than the usual.

The day was Saturday, so Hermione was off work, and she'd been cooped up in her room the whole day. When she finally came out and entered the living room, Draco didn't even look up. She probably stood there for at least two solid minutes - she probably thought he didn't know she was there . . . but he did.

He looked up at her indifferently and pushed his reading glasses further up his nose. "Yes?" He caught sight of her expression and nodded, setting his book down. "Oh, it's time to talk about that conversation we had the other night, yeah?"

She hesitated, then nodded, coming to sit down next to him. He really didn't know what to expect, especially with Hermione. She was very up and down, high and low. Or maybe that was all women. Either way he didn't know what she was -

"I want to be with you," she said quickly, and he looked over at her amused surprise. "As in, _really_ date you - I mean, well, is that weird?"

He leaned back into the couch with his arms crossed over his chest, smirking. "You want to date me?"

She shifted nervously and fiddled with the hem of her skirt. "Erm, well, yeah. I mean, I guess - it's not a big deal if you don't want to, Draco, really." she said hastily.

Draco supressed his laughter as he thoroughly enjoyed her becoming fidgety. "Well, I _might _be okay with that." he said with an over-exaggerated sigh.

She glanced at him, her brow furrowed, and then did an irritated double take. "You're making fun of me!" she exclaimed in realization, standing.

He laughed as she scowled, and she started to storm off to her room, but he hopped up and grabbed her around the waist, burying his head into her neck.

He smiled against her collarbone, chuckling. "I'm sorry, love."

"Oh, get off me, you bum." she said unconvincingly, pushing his shoulder.

He lifted his head and grinned at her. "Actually, I have a _job_ now, so, as a matter of fact, I'm _not_ a bum anymore. So, hah."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, whatever." she muttered.

"And to answer your question," he murmured, studying her. "I would love to be in a relationship with you."

She smiled and bit her lip. "Well . . . good." she said, and he chuckled, kissing her.

**XXX**

"How the bloody hell did you talk me into this?" Draco muttered as Hermione dragged him by the hand to Ginny's office.

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad. You'll be done in minutes." she said, rolling her eyes as she knocked on Ginny's door.

"Come in." came Weaslette's voice from within.

Hermione started to open the door, and tugged his hand, but he didn't budge. She looked back at him with a warning glare.

"Come _on_, Draco."

"No."

"_Yes_."

"_No_!"

"Draco!"

"_No_ - she's scary!" he whispered hastily.

Hermione gave him a wide eyed look. "You're scared of Ginny?"

He scowled as she started to laugh. "Don't you dare make fun of me, Granger, or - "

"Everything alright out here?" Ginny asked, popping her head out the door.

Hermione grinned at her. "Nothing, we're fine. He's ready."

She pushed him towards the door and he stumbled in, leaving Hermione outside. He swallowed as Ginny closed the door and he sat down in the chair across from her desk.

"Okay," the pretty red head sighed, sitting down, "This is going to be quick, since you probably don't know much, correct?"

He nodded. "Correct. So why am I here?"

"It's procedure, Draco," she replied, and sat up straighter. "So, let's get started. When did they start to actually pursue you?"

"Almost a year after Hogwarts." he answered.

She raised her eyebrows. "It's been years since then. Why didn't you come sooner? Actually, you didn't even come willingly."

He smiled dryly. "Would you've really believed anything I tried to tell you? I bet you still think I'm in on it."

She pursed her lips, studying him. "Don't be smart with me, Malfoy, I'm here to help you. Now, do you have a specific on why they're doing this to you?"

"Isn't it obvious? Because I immediately let go of the Death Eater life. I stopped killing and worshipping a dead man. So they came after me in revenge. There are probably others being chased, too."

Ginny rubbed a hand over her face. "Okay. What do they do? Because you're still alive."

He shrugged. "I injure them before they can do anything to me. I usually Stun them, then Apparate them someplace unfamiliar and then change locations. Or, at least, that's how it was until I met Hermione. It was her idea to become popular with the public, so they'd notice if I went missing or something like that."

Ginny frowned appreciatively. "Clever. So, do you have any idea if they have a leader?"

"I'm betting they do. But I have no clue who it is."

She leaned her elbows onto the deak and rubbed her temples. "Brilliant. Alright, have you been contacted by them since you moved in with Hermione?"

He cleared his throat and nodded, relaying the story of the alley and their sweet little 'we'll-be-watching' warning. He also told her Hermione didn't know about it.

"And why not?" she asked testily, "She'd be interested in this."

"Yes, well, I haven't exactly told her everything." he muttered uncomfortably.

"You _what_?" Ginny sputtered.

"She doesn't need this put on her shoulders, you know that," Draco protested defensively, "She's dealt with enough of this Dark Arts rubbish in her life, and I won't be responsible for burdening her more so. It's not fair."

"Erm, it kind of sound like you care about her," Ginny noted, raising an eyebrow, "I thought you two were only fake-dating."

"Yeah, we changed that this morning. We're really a couple now."

"Oh. Well, that's very odd."

"Yeah. . . ."

"Well, Draco, don't you think you've had enough of this Drak Arts in your life, as well?" she countered, "And Hermione fought Voldemort and the Death Eaters half her life, remember that."

"Yes, well, the difference now is I don't have a choice, and she does." he muttered bitterly.

"She'd want to know," Ginny reasoned, "She's obviously stronger than you think."

"I know she's strong, trust me. I'm just trying to protect her." he said somewhat desperately.

"Well, she's already in waist-deep," she said, sighing, "You better tell her everything, Draco, before I do. She deserves to know."

Draco didn't respond, he just looked away, locking his jaw.

"Yes, well, I'll call you in if I need anymore information," she said, standing. "Be safe, Draco. The Aurors will catch these guys, don't worry. You won't have to run anymore."

"Yeah, that'd be nice." Draco replied, unconvinced. He'd searched, too, back when it first started, and he couldn't find anything. And he'd tried everything within his control, and he didn't exactly have a budget. He didn't see hjw the Aurors would be anymore successful. But, then again, he would have both the bad and good guys on his tail twenty four-bloody-seven now, so they'd have to have a run-in eventually.

"You can go," she allowed, then glanced up at him thougthfully and advised gently, "Draco, don't give up hope. That's the biggest mistake you can make - you end up doing stupid things. There's still time for you. Your life has barely begun."

Draco just stared at her. Merlin, for someone a year younger than him, she sure seemed so much older and wiser than he could ever be.

"And remember - tell her." she reminded him, not noticing his observation.

Draco nodded shortly before walking out of the office wearily. Hermione stood up when he closed the door.

"See? That wasn't so bad - you weren't even gone ten minutes. How'd it go?" she asked as they started walking.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Fine, I guess."

"You've still got to tell me what's going on, you know." she said quietly.

He glanced at her, and a pang went through his chest. "Yeah, I know."  
"Come on, we'll talk at home."

**XXX**

And he told her - finally. She just stayed silent the whole time, and, when he finished in a rush, she just nodded. If he was expecting anything, it wasn't that. He didn't even know what he was expecting, he was just shooting for getting through it and then just seeing how it went. Probably a stupid idea.

"And . . . that's all." he finished lamely.

She nodded, looking down. "Well, at least I wasn't too out of the loop. I just didn't get the Death Eater memo," she said lightly, "which I guess is a big part, since the people who almost brought the downfall of the Wizarding World are coming after you, and they're also the people who killed my parents, but -but . . . "

She didn't finish, and he didn't know what to say with such a touchy subject. He didn't even try 'I'm sorry' - he knew she'd gotten enough of those from him and everyone else. She finally cleared her throat and looked up at him.

"Well, we can get through it, right?" she said breathlessly and put her hand over his, smiling.

He nodded determinedly. "Yeah. Yeah, we can get through it, 'Mione."

She nodded back and patted his hand, standing and going to her room. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. If one thing bothered him, it was that he didn't know what was going through that woman's mind.

Draco hadn't really been attached to a woman in his life, not even so much with his own mother, so it was understandable that he was he was a little troubled at the thoughts going through his head. Something like, all he wanted to do was make it right for her. Or, he was scared that now she would just leave him in the dust because of how screwed up his life was. Or . . . he just - he just needed her.

He just needed her.


	9. Black Out

**Black Out**

Hermione's eyes fluttered open the next morning - thankfully it was a Sunday - and she sat up, glancing at the clock. It was twelve. She rubbed her eyes and sniffed, before plopping her hands back into her lap.

Bloody Draco Malfoy. He was going to kill her with all this. She swore, if she didn't fancy the bloke, she'd chuck him out on the street. The last thing she wanted in her life was that Death Eater rubbish again - but she also realized he knew that. And he _had_ warned her in the beginning. (To her credit, she hadn't even imagined something of the magnitude it was, but still).

So she'd help him. Isn't that what she'd promised herself in the beginning anyway? In fact, looking back on that, she didn't feel any regret or remorse.

Not for the first time, she cursed her soft soul.

Hermione dragged herself out of her bed and slid her robe on, her feet padding as she walked out of her room, down the hallway and through the living room towards the kitchen, where she smelt breakfast. She frowned - that was usually what she did.

Oh, dear Merlin.

Draco wasn't trying to cook, was he?

She ran the rest of the way to the kitchen and grabbed the wall to balance herself as she stared at the scene before her. Harry, Ron and Draco were in the kitchen together, making breakfast, the Muggle way. Harry was scrambling the eggs, Ron was cooking the bacon (or attempting to), and, thankfully, Draco was just sitting on the counter next to them as they bantered, like they were old friends or some rubbish like that.

She stared at them like they were crazy, and Draco was the first one to notice her, being the only one facing her.

"Hello," he said tentatively, hopping on the counter. "We, uh, we're making breakfast!"

And it dawned on her then that he was trying to impress her, or trying to make up for what he'd told her the day before. She raised her eyebrows, and crossed her arms over her chest, trying to supress her smile.

"It kind of looks like _Harry and Ron_ are making breakfast, and you're sitting around." she pointed out.

He chuckled nervously as Harry and Ron nonchalantly waved over their shoulders to her. "Well, _last time_ I tried to cook I almost burnt down the building, so . . . I think that's a good thing."

He had a fine point there.

"So what is all this for, then, Draco?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I just wanted to say I'm so - "

"No, no," she warned him, then sighed, "I understand. And you don't need to do that."

He glanced behind him uneasily at the other two boys, who gave him shrugs. "I . . . don't?"

"I told you we could figure it out, you nitwit," she reminded him, walking past him with an exasperated look. "Now let's see if Ron can manage to not burn the bacon."

"Hey!" he protested, "I'm not that bad!"

"Ron, you're holding the spatula on the wrong side," Harry said exasepratedly, flipping it and handing him the right side. "We've been over this _many_ times."

"I'm _sorry_," he muttered, now successfully able to flip the bacon. "The other side is just so much more comfortable."

Draco hopped up on the counter on the other side of Hermione, now looking in a particularly jolly mood.

"Don't pout, Weasel, it's not attractive." Draco chastised.

"So you find me attractive otherwise?"

"Don't read too much into it."

"Is that a blush I see?"

"You're a git, Weasley."

"You're getting defensive, that's a sure sign you're attracted to me already!"

"God dammit."

Hermione looked between them curiously. "When did you two become friends?" she scoffed, "Last time I checked you hated each other."

"Are you complaining?" Draco asked smartly, smirking.

She was about to retort, but Ron said, "Told you I'd try." he said, nudging her with a smile.

She beamed, suddenly feeling happiness engulf her. Her friends were getting along with her boyfriend. One step forward.

"Hey, where are Ginny and - and Wendy anyway?" Hermione asked, hoping no one noticed her slip-up - Ron was trying, so she would, too.

It seemed Ron and Harry didn't, as they explained that Ginny was out with Mrs. Weasley, having mother-daughter time, and Wendy was shopping in Diagon Alley for her and Ron's new flat - but she knew Draco noticed, as he slid a hand over hers. She looked up at him, and he gave her a discreet encouraging smile. She returned it before she tuned back into the conversation.

Hermione laughed more that whole afternoon than she had in a long time. They ate their brunch - or leakfast, as Ron insisted - slowly, filled with lame jokes and equally lame yet hilarious stories, and, after, they wasted the day away watching their favorite Muggle TV shows. Ron was fascinated, and kept fiddling with the remote, therefore changing the channel sometimes, and Draco still mispronounced most of the Muggle names. For example, he pronounced television like a French person - "tele-vis-ee-on" - and remote with an accent - "remot-eh". So it was a highly entertaining day overall.

When Harry and Ron left around ten at night, Draco and Hermione continued watching 'Friends', her head in his lap. He lightly ran his fingers through her hair and she looked up at him with a slight smile.

"That was fun." she decided.

"Yes, it was." he chuckled.

She sat up on her elbows and turned her face to him. "I meant it when I said we could figure it out, you know."

He nodded, studying her. "I know." he murmured.

"I know you're sorry." she said, knowing what he was thinking.

"I am, though, 'Mione." he whispered, putting a hand to her cheek.

She shushed him softly and brought her lips to his, needing to comfort him - because, these days, it seemed like it was only the other way around.

**XXX**

Two weeks passed of that same peaceful happiness, and Hermione really couldn't have been more content. The Death Eater issue was nagging at her in the back of her mind, but she refused to acknowledge it. She wanted to hang onto these moments as long as she could.

One morning, Hermione brought a secret box in, trying to retain her giggling, and set it down in the middle of the foyer. She stood and straightened her clothes, pushing her hair back from her face.

"Draco?" she called.

"Hmmughmph." came his muffled reply. He was still sleeping then. Perfect.

She bent down and opened the lid of the box, and the little golden retriever puppy leaped out, his tongue lolling to the side happily.

"C'mere." Hermione whispered, waving him along with her to the bedroom. The little puppy followed, and Hermione opened the bedroom door to find Draco sprawled out there, his head to the side.

Hermione grinned at the puppy, then went over to the bed, sliding next to him. She kissed his bare shoulder, then his neck, and he shifted, making incoherent mumbles. Then, she exictedly waved the puppy over and he jumped up next to her, peering over her waist to see the new person.

"Draco?" she murmured, biting her lip to keep from laughing. "I have a surprise for you."

He groaned and started to open his eyes. "This better have something to do with sex, because - AHH!"

She let the sex remark slide because of the look on his face when he saw the dog, and she laughed so hard she had to look away. The puppy hid behind her waist and Draco scrambled to the farthest side of the bed.

"What - what - huh?" he stuttered, looking at her.

She smiled and pulled the puppy onto the other side of her so Draco could see. "It's a puppy!"

"You mean, like - a dog?" he gasped.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Draco. C'mon, he's harmless, pet him."

"I've never actually . . . been this close to one." he mumbled, his eyes falling on the golden puppy, who was waiting patiently, his tail wagging.

"Well, they aren't very common in the Wizarding World." Hermione offered, watching in amusement as Draco reached his hand out as far as it could go, and only let his fingertips touch the dog.

"He's soft." he said, letting his whole hand now pet the puppy's head.

She snorted. "Good job, Draco."

"Shut up." he mumbled, his attention on the dog.

"What do you want to name him?" she asked, studying him as he stared intently the dog.

He winked at her. "Draco Junior."

"Yeah, that's not going to happen." she chuckled, thoughtfully looking at their new pet.

"Fluffy?"

"You've got to be joking."

"Spot?"

"Draco!"

"No, really, look, he has a spot right there, on his paw," Draco said, pointing too a spot covering his whole paw that was a tad darker than the rest of him. "It's fate, I tell you."

"But that's the most ordinary name for a dog." Hermione said, wrinkling her nose.

"Fine. How about his real name is King Spotawana IV, but we call him Spot for short, hm?" he reasoned.

Hermione laughed. "That is so strange . . . but I kind of like it."

He just grinned and kissed her.

**XXX**

The next day, Ron and Harry came over to make them breakfast - just like they had every other Sunday before that, as some sort of odd tradition. As Harry and Hermione bantered over the bacon, and Draco and Ron bickered over whose was cooking better (even though both were quite horrid), there came a knock on the door, earning a round of little yelps from Spot. Hermione left the boys momentarily to answer the door, her grin still in place. She picked Spot up so he wouldn't lick the visitor to death, and opened the door.

"Damon!" she exclaimed in surprise.

Damon stood there with his hands in his pockets, smiling shyly.

"Hi, Hermione," Damon said, "I'm sorry if this is a bad time. . . . "

"Er, no, not at all, come on in." she offered, opening the door all the way for him.

He stepped in with a thankful smile. "Thanks, I just wanted to check on you, I guess. I haven't heard from you in a while."

"Oh, well, that's sweet of you," Hermione smiled as she led him into the kitchen. "Me, Draco and some of my friends are just making some breakfast."

Damon grinned. "Breakfast at lunchtime. I love it."

They both laughed and entered the kitchen. The boys glanced up from where they were transferring the food onto plates.

"Hey, Damon, what are you doing here?" Harry said in surprise, setting the plate of eggs on the kitchen table.

"I just wanted to check on Hermione, but I see she's very much entertained." he chuckled, gesturing to the everyone.

"Yes, well, it was a surprise for me the first time, too." Hermione allowed, and she introduced Damon to Ron and Draco as well. Ron had recognized Damon from the Ministry, so they got off on the right foot. Even Draco and Damon did, even though she'd been on a 'date' with Damon before, or whatever it was.

Brunch - or leakfast, of course - actually wasn't awkward at all with Damon there, and Hermione was enjoying herself immensely. She was laughing at some story Harry was telling when there was a tapping at the window. She got up from the table to get it, the conversation continuing boisterously behind her. She opened it and gave the owl a treat before she took the letter. She saw it was from Julie, and it was formally typed, which was odd coming from her flambouyant secretary, but she didn't think too much of it. It explained that the department needed Hermione desperately for this one meeting with Katherine (her boss) at some cafe for lunch in Diagon Alley, and she needed to be there.

Hermione sighed and crumpled up the letter, throwing it aside.

_Great. There goes my peaceful day._

She sighed and attempted to quietly go to her room to get dressed, but of course Draco noticed.

"Where are you going, Hermione?" he asked, frowning.

"I'm apparently desperately needed at work - Julie just sent me a letter," she explained, "But I'll be back after the meeting."

"That's not really like Julie, don't you think?" Damon frowned, "To be that . . . responsible?"

Hermione smirked. "Well, maybe she's starting to change."

Damon snorted. "Yeah - very likely."

"Go on, Hermione, we won't keep you," Harry said, "We'll clean up here and then go snoop through your things."

He grinned cheekily and she rolled her eyes as the others laughed. She quickly went to her room and got dressed, before saying one more goodbye to the boys and then Apparating to Diagon Alley.

She made her way through the crowds of people towards the cafe that she needed to go to. She was about halfway there when suddenly thought it was a great idea to turn suddenly, into Knockturn Alley. Part of her mind fought it, but something in her forced herself to go. It was a horrible sensation.

She barralled through people until she finally got to a denser part, where she finally came to her senses. She let out a bretah she didn't realize she'd been holding, and shook her head to clear her mind, but she was suddenly grabbed by both arms. Adreneline shot through her and she kicked, trying to distract them as she reached for her wand, but she found it wasn't there. They had taken it. She kicked and screamed for help, but there was no one around. Then, she was thrown inside some hidden building in one of the back alleys, where she feared no one would discover her. She was dazed as her two captors bounded her to a chair, and she figured they must've cast some spell on her to make her this confused. She heard them muttering, but everything kept falling in and out of focus.

And then, she blacked out.

_A/N: Dun, dun, duuuuh! :) Sorry for the cliff-hanger, guys, but I'll update as soon as I can! Thanks to all who are reviewing and such, it makes me smile! :)_


	10. We're Okay

_A/N: I'm sorry this chapters on the shorter side, but I wanted to stop it where I did. I hope you still enjoy!_

_ Also, I'm going on vacation for a few days, where I won't have time to update, but I'll probably think of plenty ideas on the plane ride, so that's good! :D_

_ Happy reading, and happy new year!_

**We're Okay**

"Hermione. Hermione, wake up."

"She's still out. She's been through a lot, Blaise."

"She's lucky we found her in time."

"Why'd they just leave her there, anyway?"

"I suppose they didn't think she'd live after the potion they gave her."

Hermione tried to move her hand, but found it felt like a bag of flour was on top of it. In fact, her whole body felt heavier than it should. She willed her eyes to open, and eventually managed to squint into the seemingly bright light.

"Merlin, is she opening her eyes?"

"Hermione. Are you alright?"

Hermione looked to the person and saw Blaise Zabini there, staring down at her intently.

"Blaise?" she asked, and found her voice was incredibly hoarse, and it hurt her throat to talk.

She blinked a couple more times and things started getting less bright and she could finally focus on where she was. She looked around and saw she was in St. Mungo's - Blaise and another man she didn't recognize were leaning over her, and she tried to remember what had happened before this.

"What happened? Why am I here?" she asked, bringing a hand up to clutch her throbbing throat. In fact, her whole body felt sore.

"You were attacked back in Knockturn Alley. They were the Death Eaters who are chasing Draco. They put the Imperius Curse on you, and then gave you a potion that we can't identify. They probably mixed a number of potions into a possibly fatal mixture. Luckily, a couple other Aurors and I found you in time. Some of us were keeping watch around the area because of Draco's situation, and someone had heard you screaming for help. You've been here for about a day and a half."

Hermione listened as the memories slowly came back to her. She put a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. She stayed quiet for a long time, but finally looked to Blaise again.

"Thank you," she whispered, for that was all she could manage for the moment. Then, she looked to the other man. "Thank you, too. I suppose you were one of the Aurors?"

He smiled and bowed his head respectfully to her. "Yes, I was, Ms. Granger. My name's Andrew Garcia. Blaise is the one who brought you here in time, though. He's the one who really saved you."

Hermione smiled to Blaise. "I owe you one," she joked lightly, chuckling, "I didn't even know you were an Auror."

He shrugged. "I don't tell many people, and I'm usually out doing assignments than in the Ministry."

"Thank you." she said again, and tried to say more, but her voice failed her. She sighed and the other two seemed to understand.

"It's alright, don't strain yourself," Andrew comforted her, patting her shoulder and glancing at Blaise. "We should tell her friends she's awake but not well enough to see them."

Hermione wanted to protest, but she knew there was no use in seeing them if she couldn't insist she was feeling okay - even though she wasn't. All her friends had a knack for blowing things out of proportion, and she was afraid of Draco's reaction especially. Surely he was blaming himself.

She groaned and put a hand on her forehead, letting her head fall back. The other two seemed to take this the wrong way.

"Tell the nurse to give her something to knock her out," Blaise murmured to Andrew, "She's hurting again."

Hermione would've argued, of course, if she'd been able to talk. Andrew pushed a button on the side of her bed, and the next thing she knew, she was out again.

**XXX**

Hermione had a dream. Or maybe she had awoken and it was a hallucination. Either way, it wasn't real - but it felt like it was.

She had been caught by the Death Eaters once again, and they had blindfolded her as they dragged to someplace secret. She kept seeing skeletal faces in the blackness behind the fabric, and she fought ruthlessly against their vice-like grip on her. When they finally set her down somewhere, they took off her blindfold and she found she was in a clearing in the middle of a dark forest. She was bound at her hands and feet and everything was very choppy, like scenes patched together haphazardly.

She looked up blearily, and saw a distorted image of someone she'd only seen clearly once before: Lord Voldemort.

She wanted to scream, but she couldn't find her voice. _No, you're dead,_ she thought desperately, _You're dead. You're not really here._

Then, the most horrible smile she'd ever seen spread across his face, and she looked to the side desperately, anything but looking at his death-white face. What she saw a couple feet away was Draco, bound just like her, except he was gagged with a cloth so he couldn't yell out to her. She could hear his muffled screams, and he struggled against his bindings, but he was held back by the masked Death Eaters. Hermione could _feel_ their elation at the scene before them.

She saw a desperate fear in Draco's eyes, and she couldn't bear to look at him. Even Voldemort wasn't as frightening as the look in Draco's eyes - it was like he'd given up hope. If he'd given up hope, what was left for her?

Voldemort was still smiling down at her, and he took out his wand. "Little child," he hissed, his grin now morphing into a cruel sneer. "I might be gone, but there's no way you can run from what I've left behind. Don't you see? You'll be running forever. . . ."

Hermione heard herself panting as Voldemort raised his wand. _You're dead. He's dead, Hermione. This isn't real . . . this isn't . . ._

"You cannot hide any longer. . . ."

_It's not real. . . ._

"We will find you - "

_He's not real. You're safe. You're -_

"And we will _kill you_!"

_No, no, no, he's not _real_ -_

"AVADA - "

Hermione awoke screaming. It was dark, and there was one frantic nurse and a determined doctor on either side of her, attempting to soothe her. She exclaimed random nothings and grabbed onto the doctor's shirt, needing something solid, something safe, to hold onto.

"Please, don't let me go back to sleep." she breathed, finally quieting down.

The doctor held her to him, and she knew his expression was uneasy as he exchanged glances with the nurse. "We won't Ms. Granger. I think it's time you return to the comfort of your home. Marie, contact the visitors that were here the other day."

She didn't say anything, she just clung onto the doctor, squeezing her eyes shut.

_He's not here, Hermione. You're safe,_ she encouraged herself, taking deep, soothing breaths.

"Hermione, your friends will be here shortly," the doctor said calmly, patting her back rather awkwardly. "It'll be okay."

Only minutes later did Hermione hear a commotion outside the door.

" - need to stay calm, she's in distress - "

"Let me see her."

"Mr. Malfoy, you need to _calm down_ - "

"_Let me see her._"

There was a pause before she heard the door open, and the doctor gently pried her hands off him. She had to give him credit for not doing so earlier. Then, she turned to Draco, and saw he was still in his flannel pajama pants and white T-shirt with a leather jacket over it, his hair a complete mess. His eyes were desperate and a bit crazed as they found her sitting on the tiny cot.

She probably couldn't have launched herself at him faster.

"Oh, Hermione," he whispered into her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She really didn't want to cry, but the constricting in her chest and the stinging in her eyes soon became overwhelming, and she buried her face into his jacket. He slid her into his arms so he could pick her up, and he brought her over to her bed again, murmuring soothing words into her ear and rocking her lightly.

"It's okay, I'm here," he breathed, "We're okay, Hermione. We're okay."

She let those words sink in and she held onto him tighter, her watering eyes staring at the wall opposite of her. She wasn't crying from her dream anymore, or from the relief of seeing him - not even from the memory of being abducted.

She was crying as one thought went through her head. One thought in response to his murmurings.

_ Why then, did she feel like they _wouldn't _be okay? _

_ Not at all?_


	11. Pieces

**Pieces**

Hermione was sent home the next day, the healers saying it was probably for the best. She just needed rest, they said.

Draco agreed whole-heartedly, wanting to be alone with Hermione. He needed to know for sure she was okay - he'd had to live two days without knowing so.

But Hermione didn't talk when she met him in the lobby. She didn't talk when they Apparated back to the apartment - she went into her room and shut the door, and Draco understood she wanted to be alone.

He leaned against the wall and rubbed a hand over his face. It killed him to stay away from her after all this time, not make sure she was safe, but he knew he should just keep a distance for a while.

But only for a while.

**XXX**

At nearly three in the morning, Draco was mindlessly scrolling through television channels, not even paying attention to what was on the screen. Spot lay next to him on the couch, his head resting against Draco's leg as he snored lightly.

He had to make sure she was safe. She had to be safe. . . . The question was - was she safer with or without him? He had to put aside his own personal feelings and look at it that way. It was the only way he could make sure she was -

Then, he heard a door open, and he sat up stock-straight, his eyes wide. The gentle padding of feet told him it was just Hermione, and soon she appeared in the hallway doorway. She stopped at the sight of him.

"Draco," she said in surprise, "What are you doing up?"

She looked better, he realized. She must've been sleeping.

He stood hastily and flattened his shirt. "Er, I was just watching some TV."

She walked toward him slowly, frowning. "Are you alright? You wore those clothes when you came and got me at St. Mungo's."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he assured her breezily, "How are you?"

She half-smiled. "I'll be fine. Get some rest."

He didn't move. He watched her become uneasy at his gaze and he finally spoke, "Hermione, what happened?"

"You know what happened, Draco. The healers told you." she said in a slightly icy tone. She didn't want to talk about it.

"Listen, I didn't want you involved in the first place," he murmured, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe I should just - "

"Don't say leave, Draco." she pleaded quietly.

"You'd be safer without me." he protested.

"I'm obviously already involved!" she laughed bitterly.

"All the more reason for me to leave," he said, "It's not you they want. It's me."

His stomach tightened when he saw tears welling up in her eyes, and she bit her trembling lip.

"Why are you doing this?" she finally asked, looking back up at him.

"Because I love you," he blurted automatically, "And I _have_ to keep you safe. Your life is unimaginably more significant than mine will ever be."

"Stop it," she snapped, wiping her wet cheeks angrily, "Don't use that bullshit on me. If you love me, you'll stay with me."

"I can't," he whispered, his voice breaking, "Hermione, I can't."

She looked down as more tears fell and he forced his will not to crumble. It was for the best. Right?

"Fine," she exclaimed, looking back up at him. "Go, then."

"Hermione, please - "

"Just go, Draco!"

They held each others gazes for a moment before she sighed, going over to the couch. Spot stirred awake and looked up at them before he slid over to put his head in Hermione's lap. God, Draco was going to miss them. And to think he was leaving by choice.

He sighed and walked down the hallway to his room, to pack his things.

**XXX**

Hermione stood with her arms crossed, looking out the window of the living room, a hand lightly covering her mouth. She let the tears fall now, but she didn't make a sound. She should've seen it coming. No matter how much he denied it, Draco had a noble soul. Maybe she wasn't taking it as bad because she had put a barrier from the start. Or maybe it was because she'd been expecting something else to go wrong along with her hospitalization disaster.

But, of course, it still hurt. It hurt like hell. But she'd picked up the pieces once before, hadn't she? She could do it again. She had to do it again.

She heard his footsteps coming from the hallway and he soon appeared in the living room, a suitcase in hand. They faced each other for a moment, before Hermione finally decided to speak.

"I love you, too." she whispered.

He swallowed and looked down, locking his jaw. "I'm sorry, Hermione," she said, looking back up at her. "I'm doing this for you."

"I recovered after Ron," she said quietly, "I can do it again."

He paused, gazing at her. "After this is over . . . I'll be waiting," he said, shrugging lightly. "I'll always love you."

She shook her head quickly. "No, Draco, I think we should just - just keep as friends."

He locked his jaw again and shook his head slightly. "No, don't do that," he said quietly, "I want to be more than that."

She bit her lip and looked away. "I'm sorry."

She didn't look back up until he left.

The next night, Hermione sat in the bubbly bathtub with scented candles lit everywhere, Spot laying on the rug to keep her company. She stared blanky at her feet that were peeking up above the bubbles, her mind on other things. Well, on Draco. She swallowed and looked to Spot, unable to keep up the silence anymore.

"What do you think, Spot?" she asked, and he raised his head questioningly, cocking it to the side. "Do you think I did the right thing? Telling him we should just be friends?"

He whined and scooted closer to the tub, and she brought her hand out to pet him.

"Come on, Spot, you're going to make me cry again." she chuckled breathily.

She stared ahead again, realizing that it was just her and Spot now. Draco was off somewhere else, trying to avoid trouble. Probably at the Ministry urging the Aurors to get on the case, because he was convinced they weren't working hard enough. Of course, he was probably drowning in the case now, too. He only wanted what was best for her.

And look at her, moping in a sudsy bathtub while she pouted about her love life - while there was a secret war raging out in the streets.

She really was losing her Gryffindor spirit.

There was a knock at the front door. Spot's head shot up, and he bounded to the bathroom door, barking to get out. Hermione sighed and got out of the tub, quickly slipping a robe on. She dried out her hair as she padded out of the bathroom and to the front door.

She hesitated momentarily before she opened it. She sighed in relief when she saw Damon there, his hands in his pockets. He looked warm and familiar, with his jeans and button-down. She really did need company.

"Damon," she sighed, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm so sorry I didn't visit you in the hospital, I was out on business for the Ministry," he apologized quickly, "I just heard you got released last night, so I just wanted to check in."

"Sure, yeah, come in." she allowed, stepping aside.

He stepped in, giving her a small smile on the way into the living room.

"So, how are you feeling?" he asked as they sat on the couch.

"Erm, alright, I guess." she replied, shrugging.

"That doesn't sound promising," he joked lightly, then frowned, looking around. "Where's Draco?"

Her throat constricted. "He, er, he left. It's long story."

"I'm all ears." he said, giving her a small, encouraging smile.

She turned to him and studied his face. Could she trust Damon with this? He'd always been sweet, and for Merlin's sake, he worked in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

So she told him about their Death Eater issues, and about her being attacked, and about Draco leaving. During her explanation, she'd become understandably distressed and she ended up with his arm around her, and her head in his shoulder. _She_ didn't think there was anything romantic about it, but she wasn't so sure what he thought. His fingers lightly brushed her arm and she bit her lip, trying not to imagine him as Draco. That wouldn't lead to anything good.

"I'm so sorry." he murmured.

Hermione lifted her head and looked at him. His warm brown eyes looked at her sympathetically, and something else about him just radiated empathy, like he understood. He understood.

And so, call her crazy or stupid or whatever else - she kissed him.


	12. A Plotting Man

_A/N: Sorry this toook me ages, guys, I've been busy with lousy schoolwork. Trust me, this fic would be done by now if not for it. I used to be an update queen! Haha. :) But I'm doing the best I can, so bear with me. This is also on the shorter side, and, yes, there's a cliffhanger - wince - but I wanted to end it here so I could get into the good stuff next chapter. :D_

_ Happy reading!_

**A Plotting Man**

Her eyes widened and she scrambled to the other side of the couch. _What the _hell _am I doing?_

Damon had his mouth open in shock, and she put a hand to her head. "Holy - Damon, I'm sorry, I'm stupid, I'm so stupid - "

"Hermione," he said quietly, avoiding her gaze. "It's fine. Really."

She bit her lip with a pained expression. "No, it's not fine, Damon, and I shouldn't have done it."

He sighed and looked back up at her with a slightly forced smile. "I understand, Hermione. I think you just need to think about things. Maybe you should go talk to Draco about it."

She hesitated before nodding, and he left with another word.

There was silence after the pop of his Apparation in which Hermione stared at nothing in paticular. She then collapsed onto the couch and groaned, limply punching the cushions. She could just imagine Draco snorting at her pouting.

So she was certainly surpsrised when she _did_. Her head snapped to the hallway entrance, where he was leaning against the wall, his hair a mess and only in sweatpants, a T-shirt and a light jacket when it was below freezing outside.

"Well, that was certainly unexpected."

Oh, no. That was _not_ a good tone.

"Draco, listen, it wasn't anything, I can explain - " she said, sitting up.

"Oh, can you? Because I'm pretty sure I understand perfectly." he said bitterly.

She set her mouth angrily, but had a more pressing question first. "Why are you here?"

"Well, I forgot one of my T-shirts," he said in a bored tone, holding it up - one that Hermione used to always wear. "and I also wanted to say hi to Spot. But I see you on top of Damon instead."

"I was not on top of him, you prat," she snapped, "It lasted for maybe two seconds, and I realize my mistake. Even though we're broken up, so it shouldn't matter, right?"

"Well, I'm certainly being replaced fast." he said, looking evenly into her eyes.

"Draco, I'm not trying to replace you - I never could." she murmured, avoiding his gaze and shrugging.

"No, we're not doing this again," he chuckled shortly, "We've already had our bitter goodbyes, I don't fancy having them again."

He started toward the foyer, and she watched his back.

"I didn't want it to end, you know," she said tentatively, "Maybe we _could_ reconcile after."

He didn't turn to face her immediately, but he turned his head. "How about we just see how this goes?" he said, not in a very promising tone.

She swallowed and breathed, "Okay."

And then he Apparated away.

**XXX**

"Oh, dear God, Harry, look at her. She's looks like hell."

"Shut _up_, Ron, you lousy excuse of a brother. That's your friend of ten years right there."

"It's alright, Gin, just ignore him, that's what I've learned to do over the years."

"Harry!"

"Sorry, Ron, it's true."

"Look, I think she moved."

"I hope she didn't hear Ron's comment, or we're all going to suffer her bad mood."

"What? She really does look bloody terrible. Aw, but look how cute Spot looks!"

"_Ron_!"

"You hopeless git, it's a wonder you get _any_ women at all."

Hermione groaned, slapping a hand to her head. "What the _hell_ are you three doing here?"

She was still on the couch, where she must've fallen asleep. There was a sinking of the cushion next to her, and knew it was Ginny by how delicate it was. She brushed Hermione's hand off her face and put a calculating hand to her forehead, checking motherly for a fever.

"Just came to check in . . . we heard about what happened . . . sort of. The Daily Prophet caught Draco checking into a Muggle hotel." she admitted reluctantly.

"And so did Witch Weekly," Ron added, and Hermione cracked an eye open skeptically. "but they also said he had two female lovers with him, so . . . "

"Okay, Ron, that's enough." Ginny said through gritted teeth.

"It's very encouraging how you had to clarify the lovers were female, Ron." Hermione muttered, sighing and sitting up.

"So . . . what happened?" Harry asked, sitting in one of the armchairs. Hermione placed herself next to Ginny on the couch, and Ron took a seat in the other armchair.

"Did Draco really leave?" Ron asked, not exactly in a friendly tone.

"Yeah." she murmured, looking at her hands.

"That son of a - "

"_Ron_." Ginny scolded, looking at him with wide eyes.

He set his mouth in an angry line, and sunk into his chair, his eyes slit with fury. Not a good sign.

Harry, on the other hand, just looked confused. "I don't understand, 'Mione," he confessed, "I thought you two were doing well. Unless it has something to do with the accident . . . ?"

"It just - it's kind of complicated, Harry. I don't feel like talking about it - it was only two nights ago. . . ." she said. She knew Harry was informed of the Death Eaters, being an Auror, and, of course, Harry Potter, the savior of the Wizarding World, but she didn't know if he knew of her involvement. "And then - and then Damon came over last night. . . ."

And she told them of the fiasco with Damon and Draco, cringing in anticipation at their responses. But they were understanding . . . well, except Ron, who was still seething.

"Hermione, it's normal to want to feel wanted and comforted after a breakup. The good thing is that you broke it off before it got too serious." Ginny assured her, though there was a worrying glint in her eye.

"It was just bad timing for him to show up. For _both_ of them to show up." Harry reasoned, giving her an empathetic look.

"Yeah, well, for now, we'll just have to see how it goes. Once things . . . clear up, " she said, shooting a meaningful glance at Ginny, "I hope it'll get better."

"Well, how about we go out to lunch together in Diagon Alley?" Ginny suggested lightly, open to a yes or no.

Hermione hesitated. "You know, I think I'm going to stick around here for a while. But you guys go ahead."

They all exchanged uneasy glances before they finally agreed. They left, Ron shooting her a "comforting" 'if-he-does-anything-else-you-know-I'll-kill-him' look. Hermione nodded to humor him, and they Apparated away.

Hermione, of course, spent the rest of the day moping. She never thought she'd actually become one of those over-dramatic break-up girls, but there she was an hour later, whipped cream bottle in her hand and The Notebook playing on TV.

But she wasn't really paying attention. She had only had two squirts of the whipped cream, and she didn't feel the magical sympathy it apparently granted you.

So, really, Hermione wasn't a melodramatic break-up girl. She was more realistic, more logical than that. A little crying, and the girly stuff was done. Then, she decided and executed her next move to keep her life going.

Which was what she was working on.

The only problem was . . . what _did_ she do from here?

There was a knock on the door right in the middle of the movie, and she grunted in annoyance as she heaved herself from the couch. The person must be someone she didn't know, or they wouldn't be knocking. She was slightly wary when opening it, but, after a moments thought, she opened it.

She gasped at who stood there. Someone who she'd thought was taking refuge in their home. Someone who she'd never wanted to see again. Someone who had once been one of Voldemort's most powerful servants.

Lucius Malfoy grinned a sly grin, his hands clasped behind his back, his hair neatly combed, his black cloak neatly folded. Just like she remembered. She didn't see a man who'd been hiding for the past few years, who'd apparantly been living in fear and regret.

No. No, she saw the same man she'd seen before the war. Maybe even a little . . . happier, if you may. A little wiser. A little more clever.

She saw a plotting man with a scheme in mind.

"Hello, Hermione."


	13. A Letter

**A Letter**

How had Draco gotten himself into this situation? He had no fuckin' clue. But it was terrible. It was really bloody terrible. But he found it became _less_ terrible once he drowned himself in firewhiskey. It was a rather simple life, staying in his hotel room all day, watching pointless television and having endless glasses of the strong alcohol.

But when he slept, he dreamt of her. He dreamt of her smile, her laugh, her peaceful, sleeping face, her playful roll of the eyes.

And that was fine, he liked that.

But then he would dream about that last God damn night when he left. And that was _not_ fine, he did _not_ like that. That was what motivated him to get shit-faced every day, all day.

In fact, that was what he was dreaming about when the first real human voice he'd heard in far too long a time boomed through his head. It rippled his dream-Hermione's broken face and he groaned, furrowing his brow.

"Draco! Draco. Malfoy. _Hello_? Merlin, he's really drunk."

"What the _hell_ is that putrid fume?"

"What? Who says 'purtrid fume'? Really, Ron?"

"Will you two shut up? I'm trying to get the ferret to wake up!"

"I'm not a ferret." he mumbled, starting to wake up.

"Hey! I heard him mumble something!"

Draco sniffled and forced his eyes to open slightly, lifting his head. "Is that you, Weasley?"

"Yes." he heard two voices chorus.

"Great, it's both of you." he mumbled, letting his head fall back.

"Get up, Malfoy, we need to talk to you."

"Oh, and Potter's here, too," he grumbled, turning over to bury his face in the pillow. "Brilliant."

"Is anyone else getting a deje vu of when we woke up Hermione? They both look like shit!"

"_Ron_!" exclaimed both Harry and Ginny.

"Why, thank you, Ronald," Draco muttered, rolling back around and propping up his elbows behind him. He studied them for a minute and sighed, "Okay, what do you want?"

They exchanged readying glances and finally Ginny looked back to him determinedly.

"This is an intervention." she admitted.

Draco stared. "An intervention?"

"Yes," Ron said, "We were mad at you at first - actually, you're lucky we're not here to beat the shit out of you - but we talked it over, and it's obvious you two are perfect for each other. You and Hermione _need_ each other, and we're not going to stand around while you just drink your life away and while she sleeps her life away. It's crazy, and we aren't going to stand for it when the answer's so simple."

Draco sighed again, rolling his eyes. "Look, guys," he drawled, putting on his best confident smirk, "You obviously don't know what you're - "

A '_pop_' echoed through the room and suddenly Blaise Zabini was standing in the room with them, alarm written all over him.

"Draco - " he started, then saw the rest of them, "Oh, thank Merlin you guys are here, too. We couldn't find you. . . . Something's happened."

They all tensed, their backs straightening.

Blaise swallowed.

His hands were shaking.

"Hermione's missing."

**XXX**

They were looking through Hermione's apartment to indentify any signs of struggle or any clues as to where she could be. Some Aurors were around as well, and a couple reporters. It angered Draco that they were just waltzing around as if no one lived there anymore, but he didn't have the energy to argue. He walked into the kitchen, where it was empty, and sighed, leaning his palms on the counter and taking a deep breath. Her dishes were still in the sink and he still caught whiffs of her perfume every now and then. He shook his head curtly and turned, leaning agianst the cool granite.

A moment later, he heard the familiar pecking of an owl beak on the window, and he turns to see a sleek gray one there, clasping a letter with his name written on it. He frowned and opened the window, taking the letter from the owl. He would've given the him something, but Draco was distracted by the handwriting. He knew this handwriting. He knew exactly who this was.

_Draco,_

_ I belive by now you have realized that I have Hermione Granger being held with me. I would also hope you realize it is not her I want. It is you. If you come to me now willingly, I will not hurt her. However, if you do not show up on time or at all, she will be killed. I'm sure you know I'm not bluffing._

_ You will hear details of why you're needed when and if you arrive. Again, if you do not, she will be killed, and we will keep hunting you. Except this time, I'll give my men the permission to kill you as well._

_ Your time limit is four on the 17th. Don't be late. I'm sure you know where to go._

_Time is ticking._

Draco held the letter so tight the paper ripped in some places.

He forced himself to calm down and sort out the facts. 1., This man was his father. 2., Even if he did show up, Hermione was going to die - which wasn't going to happen if he had anything to do with it. 3., There was no way in hell he wasn't going to show up. He'd never felt more sure about anything in his life.

He glanced at the clock and saw he had thirty minutes - it was the 17th today. How long had Hermione been suffering in Lucius' clutches?

He didn't want to know.


	14. The Monster and the Man

_A/N: I meant to upload this way earlier (like, two weeks earlier), but fanfiction wasn't working for some reason, and I was so mad! But anyway, there will be two more chapters after this, one of them being the epilogue. (The next one is sort of a mini epilogue, as well). And then it will be done! I should get the next one up later tonight or tomorrow since it's already written, I just need to revise it a bit. And after this I'm writing more Lily/James stuff because I miss them! :) So check that out if you want._

_ Happy reading!_

** What Makes a Monster And What Makes A Man?**

Ginny sighed and leaned her head against the doorframe of Hermione's room. She looked around the mess of a place, so out of place for such an otherwise organized girl. Her bed sheets were a mess, her clothes were all over the place, and she'd left the lights on.

_Maybe Draco was a bad influence on her_, she thought wryly, sighing.

Then, she felt Harry's arms wrap around her waist and he rested his chin against her temple. He kissed her cheek.

"We'll find her, Gin," he assured her quietly, "Don't worry."

"I can't help it." she replied sadly.

"Draco? Where the bloody hell are you?"

Blaise came storming down the hallway, looking left and right and glancing into the various rooms. He caught sight of the couple and stopped impatiently.

"Have you seen Malfoy? He's disappeared!"

Harry and Ginny detached from each other, exchanging a worried glance.

"No, we've been in here the whole time," Harry replied, frowning.

There was a moment of silence in which they all seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"You don't suppose . . . " Ginny started, afraid to continue.

"He's gone off by himself to play hero?" Blaise finished monotonously, then shook his head, his anger rising. Then he exclaimed, "Draco Malfoy and his bloody ego! Didn't even _tell us_! God damn it all to hell!"

**XXX**

Hermione had her head hanging where she was slouched in the wooden chair. Her hands were tied behind her back and her feet were bound as well - of course, they'd taken away her wand.

'They' were the people who had been terrorizing her for the past forty-eight hours. The Cruciatus Curse had only been used three times, and Hermione knew she should be thankful for that. They'd slapped her, mocked her, used a multitude of other curses on her - luckily she'd been passing in and out of consciousness from both the curses and not getting sleep for forty-eight hours.

To make the emotional stress worse, it was in the same room of the Malfoy Manner that her last experience with torture had been endured, by none other than Bellatrix Lestrange.

However, her torture came from a rather different crowd this time. Only Lucius did she recognize from the war. The rest were younger - most obviously new recruits interested in Dark Magic.

Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy stayed out of the trouble - Hermione had only caught sight of her twice, and that was only when she needed to talk to Lucius. She looked haggard. She met Hermione's eyes once. They were dead.

Hermione knew hers weren't much better.

The only thing that surprised Hermione - and it shouldn't have - was one of the recruits. It made sense. He knew where they were going, where _Draco _was going, most of the time - he could've easily relayed it back to Lucius. He gave him the place Hermione lived, her address - everything he knew.

Damon. She only saw him murmuring back and forth to Lucius a couple times, and the first time didn't go so well. She had cried out to him that he was a traitor, and that was the first Cruciatus Curse that was upon her.

Damon only stared.

Lucius directly talked to her minimally. She knew he had nothing to say to her - all he wanted was his son, for whatever reason. To kill him or to force his support, Hermione did not know.

She kept her head down as Lucius walked near her. She stared at his polished black shoes. He brought his wand underneath her chin and lifted her face to him.

The room was gray to her. Everything was. Except Lucius Malfoy. His pale blonde hair shone and his gray eyes glinted maliciously as he gazed at her.

"My son's deadline is within ten minutes. If he does not come, you will die. If he does . . . " He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "you will die."

Hermione suppressed a shiver and closed her eyes. He leaned back. She let her head fall back down and didn't say anything.

He struck her. "You filthy mudblood, you will respond when I speak to you!" he exclaimed.

"_Stupefy_!"

The spell flew by Hermione's head and she looked up sharply. Draco stood there, his wand pointed at his father. He'd missed, and Lucius slowly turned to face his son with a small smirk.

"Draco," he murmured, "So nice of you to join us."

The other Death Eaters snickered and started to stand from where they were playing chess. Narcissa wasn't in the room.

"Draco." Hermione whispered hoarsely.

He didn't lok at her. "Let her go. I have Aurors surrounding the house."

Hermione saw Lucius cock his head to the side. "You dare lie to your own father? I certainly thought you were smarter than that, Draco." he purred, slowly walking towards him.

His expression didn't change. "Let her go." he repeated.

Lucius stopped. "Or you'll do what, Draco? Kill me? You haven't the courage."

Draco's eyes flashed. "Do not test me, father."

"You know," he continued as if Draco had not spoken. "I think the mudblood should die anyway. Even though you are here . . . we can't have you polluting the line now, can we?"

Agreeable snickers rumbled through the Death Eaters.

"I agree as well. Damon, hold her."

Draco was boiling with anger when he saw Damon. He should've seen it - he did, in the beginning, but he let his guard down and look what happened. He locked eyes with him, but Damon made no expression. He just held back Hermione's head as Lucius held his wand to her.

Draco was also panicking. He should've known better than to come alone, but he'd been on a time limit. Blaise surely knew he was gone now. It was only a matter of time. He just needed to stall them.

"What are you even doing, father? Trying to take Voldemort's place?" Draco spat, staring straight into his fathers cold gray eyes. "You are a fool."

"No, you are the fool, Draco," Lucius suddenly seethed, his eyes blazing as he strode toward his son, "I have taken over the Dark Lord's power, restored our family's honor! And you stand there and tell me you don't want it?"

"The last time I was here you were scared out of your mind with paranoia."

Lucius smirked. "Let's just say it was an epiphany of sorts. All it took then was recruiting. Which was not very hard. They all already had an interest in Dark Magic. I simply had to teach them the ways of Lord Voldemort. He is smiling in death."

Draco grimaced. "You're going to rot the rest of your days in Azkaban."

Lucius smiled a cruel smile. "And you'll be there right beside me."

"I will never join you."

"Even if it depends on your dear Hermione's life?"

Draco's eyes finally fell on Hermione. She looked miserably fatigued. Her face was deathly pale and she was breaking out in cold sweats. He could see her trembling. Draco eyes darkened as he wondered how many times she'd underwent the Cruciatus Curse.

But her eyes were the same. They were tired, but they were those same beautiful brown eyes. They begged him to run.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly the door flew open. They all looked back and saw Narcissa Malfoy there. Her blue eyes caught her son and she let out a relieved breath.

"Draco." she sighed, starting towards him.

"Narcissa." Lucius warned darkly, and she looked between him and Draco for a moment. Then, she went to stand by her husbands side.

"Mother. . . ." Draco whispered, a sense of betrayal wafting over him.

"Enough of this, Draco," Lucius exclaimed, stepping forward, "You've heard the facts, and you've had time to think - decide. If you do not join us, I will kill her. _Take your pick_. Now!"

Draco searched for any chance of escape for both of them. Anything.

"_Now_, Draco!"

There was none. They were trapped. It was his fault. His fault for not bringing anyone with him. Not even letting anybody know where he was going.

"_NOW_!"

There was simply no other way.

No other way.

"I will join you." he said quietly, bowing his head.

"No!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Shut up!" one of the Death Eaters hissed, slapping her.

Draco's gut wrenched.

Lucius smirked. "Very good. Now, your first order - kill her."

"You said you'd let her go!" Draco shouted.

"No, I did not," he said, obviously pleased with himself, "I said if you did not join, I would kill her. Now, I never said she would be set free and I never said I would not make you do the deed. Now, _do it_."

"There is nothing on this earth that would make me." he hissed.

"FINE!_ I will do it_," he screamed, shoving his wand to her neck. "This is because of _you_, Draco! _You_ did this to her!"

"_NO_ - "

Then, all the glass in the windows shattered simultaineously, and in came the Order members and various Aurors, all of their wands at the ready. The Death Eaters were outnumbered three to one.

"Surrender." ordered Blaise, stepping forward.

The recruits were most obviously uneasy, exchanging nervous glances. Some dind't even raise their wands.

"This is your last warning." Blaise warned, training his wand upon them.

The 'Death Eaters' immediately obeyed, dropping their wands and putting their hands up - including Damon. Lucius' head whirled around madly.

"No! _No_, what are you doing? Fight! _Fight_!"

"_Stupefy_!" Draco yelled. The spell hit Lucius' chest and he toppled to the floor.

The Aurors immediately surged forward to arrest the Death Eaters and finally lock Lucius Malfoy up for good. Draco felt no remorse. Even as he locked eyes with his mother, he felt nothing. She'd betrayed him.

Hermione still sagged in her chair, nearly unconscious. He ran forward, untying her hands and feet, and took her in his arms, rocking her gently.

"I'm here, 'Mione," he whispered into her hair, "It's alright. I'm here. You'll be okay. . . ."

**XXX**

_Lucius Malfoy and Death Eaters Locked Away In Azkaban_

_ Draco Malfoy a Hero?_

_ Malfoy and Granger Finally Reconcile!_

_ Hermione Granger Makes Swift Recovery_

Hermione recovered a week later. It was easy for her brain to heal with the absence of emotional stress. There was no Lucius Malfoy to worry about, or the worry of Draco being chased, or having to fake their relationship. All of it was gone, and they could live their lives out together peacefully.

So, of course, there was no reason for them to be apart anymore. They agreed they were both being daft when Draco left, and Draco was going to move right back in. And, of course, that's when the bickering started - because that's what they did.

"What do you mean we're not sharing a bedroom? We're an official couple now, are we not?"

"Draco, there's an extra room, and I am not putting it to waste."

"You seemed just fine before I got here."

"Well, I've decided I like it better this way."

Draco and Hermione stood in the living room and his bags were strewn around him. He had his hands on his hips and she tried to look as intimidating as possible while being a good seven inches shorter than him.

Suddenly, he raised an eyebrow and she became uneasy. "What?" she asked irritably.

"You're afraid to share a bedroom with me, aren't you?"

"What, why would I be afraid?" she scoffed.

"Because I'm messy."

"Yes, you are rather messy. . . ."

"But you are, too."

"Not as much as you."

"And I am a light sleeper."

"Merlin, even the tiniest creak. . . ."

"And I'd want to have sex every night."

Hermione punched his arm, laughing despite herself. "Draco! What is wrong with you!"

He snickered, pulling her into his arms. "I'm only joking, love."

"I know," she muttered against his lips before kissing him deeply. "Well, we don't have to _every_ night, but . . . "

He laughed out loud.


	15. World War III: Bathing Spot

** Six Months Later**

"Spot - hold - still!"

Hermione shielded her face unsuccessfully with her soapy hands when Spot shook himself out, and she couldn't help but smiling. All hope was lost for staying at least a little dry. She sighed and tied her hair up - also rather unsuccessfully considering all the shorter peices fell out into her face - preparing herself for the long and tiring process that was giving Spot a bath. She got the shampoo and started squirting it in her hand.

"Now, you're going to stay still while I rub this on you, yeah?" Hermione said, giving Spot a look. "Because if you start to shake it out, it'll get it my eye, and I might trip, and then I might crack my head open, and you'll be stuck here in the water, and that'd be bad. So you're going to stay still, okay?"

Spot just looked at her and she took that as an 'okay'. She started scrubbing the now medium-sized dog with the shampoo and rolled her eyes at his obviously miserable expression.

"C'mon, it's not that - SPOT!"

He shook out his fur again, and sure enough, soap spewed everywhere, including right in Hermione's eyes. She actually did trip, but thankfully, she just fell on her butt, right into the soapy dog water. She groaned and rubbed her eyes. Spot sat at the only open space, between her legs and started licking her face.

"And that is exactly what I told you _not _to do." she muttered, attempting to stand when she got the soap out of her eyes.

She sighed at his huge eyes, staring up at her, and she muttered something incoherently, but she obviously forgave him. She reached up for the shower head and pulled it down so she could rinse Spot off.

"You know, I should really just do this with magic, but I always feel really accomplished afterwards, so you could at least make it a little easier on me," she said to him as she washed his fur of the shampoo. "Now just let me - _SPOT_!"

He grabbed the shower head in his teeth and it pelted Hermione's torso with hot water and she tried to grab it from him, but both of them lost it. The shower head started having a mind of it own, snaking up and down and soaking everything in the bathroom.

"Spot, you are so - ugh!" she exclaimed, attempting to carefully step out of the shower to grab the lethal shower head. She scrambled with it and -

"Hermione, I'm home! Want to go out for . . . " his voice trailed off and she could hear him coming towards the bathroom. "What's that bloody noise? Hermione, are you alright?"

The bathroom door opened, revealing World War III - the evil shower head destroying everything in its path, Hermione struggling to save what was left of the bathroom, and Spot barking and wagging his tail happily.

Draco stood in the doorway, shocked. "What the bloody hell is going on here?"

Hermione wasn't paying attention, though, as she finally grabbed holding of the shower head. "HA!"

"Hermione, you could've just turned it off." he pointed out.

She frowned and looked down at the running shower head. "Oh."

He sighed and went over to the bath tub, turning the faucet off. Then, he turned back to her, and looked her over. She figured she must've looked pretty pathetic, because she could tell he was fighting laughter.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure I'm quite a vision, Draco, you don't have to tell me." she hurrumphed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Hermione, I'm sorry, I just - "

"How about _you_ try giving that dog a bath the Muggle way, huh? It's hard!"

"But I would do it with magic," he pointed out, and at her look, he added, "Just saying."

She kept glaring at him and he fought a smile. "Do you want me to get you some clean clothes?"

Then, a wicked grin spread across her face and she held out her arms. "No, I want a hug, Draco."

He laughed, backing up. "No way in hell - " He almost tripped over Spot, who seemed to be _pushing_ him toward Hermione. "Traitor," he muttered to the golden retriever, who, she swore, _grinned_ at him. He looked at Hermione, gaping. "Did you feed him something? I swear, he's the most human-like dog I've ever encountered!"

Hermione grinned and stepped toward him, and he backed up more, except this time, he did trip over Spot and fell into the bath tub with a huge splash. He let out a string of fluent curses, scrambling to get out of the bath. Hermione was laughing her head off, bent over, and he grumbled. Spot barked and wagged his tail happily, his tongue lolling to the side as usual.

"Get your tongue in your mouth where it belongs, for the last time," Draco snapped to Spot, "It's repulsive."

"Don't take your anger out on him, Draco." Hermione chastised, offering her hand.

He grinned up at her and reached to take it. "Why, thank you, dear."

She realized a moment too late what he was going to do - the oldest trick in the book - and he tugged at her hand before she could escape. She fell with a yelp beside him, and it caused both of them to get even more soaked. Spot then jumped in with them, seeming smug that they now knew what the misery felt like. For a moment, the only sound was the lonely dripping of the faucet and Spot's breathing, which was right on Hermiones face, thank you very much.

Hermione and Draco looked at each other.

"I swear, that dog only causes us problems." Draco said, shaking his head.

"Oh, shut up," Hermione said, smirking, and flicked his green and silver tie. "You're only mad because you got your Slytherin-colored tie wet."

"Yes, I am rather irked about that!" he exclaimed huffily, lifting it to examine the damage.

She rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless," she chuckled, "All you care about is that bloody tie."

She started to get up out of the tub, but Draco pulled her back to him, this time on his lap. She let out a woosh of air in surprise and their faces were inches apart. He was smiling wickedly.

"That's not _all_ I care about." he murmured and brought his lips to hers.

She laughed around their kiss and pushed his chest. "Get off me, you prat - you pulled me in here!"

He grinned and pulled her closer. "Only because I wanted to be near you, darling."

She laughed and still resisted. "That's the worst excuse I've ever - "

"Hermione," he murmured, and when she finally looked into his eyes, there was something there that turned her joking mood upside down.

"What?" she asked, frowing as leaned back to study him more closely, "What's wrong?"

"I need to ask you something." he said apprehensively, his eyes searching her face.

"What? What is it?" she asked worriedly, putting her hands on his chest.

"This is not the best time, I realize that," he began, swallowing nervously, "but I just - I can't wait any longer."

"God dammit, Draco, what's the matter with you?" she asked, leaning back more to give him more space.

He swallowed again, and put his hand in his pocket, before revealing a small - wet - velvet box.

Oh, bloody hell.

Her eyes went wide and her body froze in shock for a moment, but then she realized this might just be another prank. She rolled her eyes and looked up at him.

"Very funny, Draco. That was a good one, you should go into acting, really," she dead-panned, struggling to get out of the tub, "Now let's get out of this tub and put on some dry clothes. We can go see a film tonight if you want, I have some Muggle ones - "

"Hermione," he said when she was halfway out the bathroom. She turned and found he was in exactly the same position, a small rueful smile on his face now. He popped open the box to reveal a glittering diamond ring. "Will you marry me?"

Hermione flew into his arms.

She was convinced it was the greatest thing that ever happened to her.


	16. Epilogue

_A/N: So, this is it! I hope you enjoyed it, I know I was happy to share it with you. This is not really centered around Draco/Hermione, it's more of them nudging the next generation along in the love prospect of things . . . you'll see. So tell me what you think in a review or something, and you'll be hearing more from me soon. Thanks, guys. :)_

_ Happy reading!_

_ Oh, and P.S. - I dedicate this this, and pretty much every other fanfiction I've posted on this site, to SiriusBlack345. You've stuck with me every since my first story, you were my first reviewer, and you're still sticking with me, and I cannot thank you enough or tell you how much that means to me. :)_

** Epilogue**

_** Sixteen Years Later**_

Sixteen year old James Sirius Potter sat slouched down in the couch of his Uncle Blaise and Aunt Pansy's house, pouting, and for a good reason in his opinion. However, he would never admit to anyone exactly why he was so troubled. He glanced over where everyone was setting up for the Christmas dinner. His eyes fell on Emma Zabini and he found with frustration that he could not drag them away.

He'd had this issue before.

So, yeah, James fancied her. A bit. Ever since third year. But he didn't care _that_ much. . . . Besides, she was too good for him. She was smarter than him - _way _smarter than him - and, though he kept his cool around her, it was pretty bloody intimidating. Emma was the spitting image of Aunt Pansy, with her black hair - though she grew her's out long, almost to her waist - and her dark green eyes. She also had wit that could almost match Aunt Hermione's - when Hermione'd been Emma's age, of course - and the only thing she seemed to have gotten from Uncle Blaise is her temper. Which James had to endure more than he'd like.

And he had a couple problems when it came to winning her over. 1., she sort of despised him and his practical jokes, 2. he was pretty sure Uncle Blaise would give him a 24 hour long lecture even if he did succeed, and 3., well, she had a boyfriend.

Damon Trifler. The captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team and pretty much James' biggest rival. He really did want to hex the guy into oblivion - and he was sure he could, if given the oppurtunity. He didn't know why Emma liked him - he picked on first years, he cheated with school and Quidditch, he hit on other girls - the list went on.

Of course, she wasn't exactly _around_ when he did those things. Or she didn't notice.

James scowled and slouched deeper into the couch. Then, he caught Uncle Draco raising a curious eyebrow at him and he straightened, smiling innocently. Uncle Draco sighed and walked over to him from the dining room table. Despite the fact that Uncle Draco was only thirty-eight, he looked much older than he was. In fact, that went for all the adults in his life - he knew it was from the War that they had gone through. It reminded James to count his blessings.

"Alright, James?" Uncle Draco asked, sitting on the couch next to him. He had a trimmed mustache and beard, and James couldn't picture him any other way. It was like his trademark. When James saw pictures of him when he was younger and without the facial hair, it weirded him out.

To James, it went like this: trimmed mustache + trimmed beard + pale blonde hair + those annoying gray eyes that seemed to be able to pry anything out of you = Uncle Draco.

James sighed and his eyes unconsciously fell on Emma again, who was carefully setting the mashed potatoes down.

"Fine." he muttered.

"Uh-huh." he said, and James knew he didn't believe him. And knowing Uncle Draco, he probably knew what was wrong - he could read James like a book, although he didn't know how. In fact, Uncle Draco seemed to be able to read _anyone_ like a book. When James asked Dad about it - or anyone for that matter - he just said, 'He's been through a lot'.

Uncle Draco sighed and took out a rather boring-looking book from his coat pocket, most obviously waiting for an explanation. But James was too stubborn for that - everyone knew the mighty will of James' stubborness, because everyone had had to endure it at some point.

Then, Emma dropped the plate of cranberries she'd been carrying to the table and muttered a curse that would probably make any of the adults, minus Uncle Draco, gasp and wash her tongue out. James chuckled lightly so she couldn't hear as she hurried out of the room to grab her wand. James glanced at Uncle Draco to make sure he wasn't looking and quickly took out his own wand, cleaning up the mess of cranberries and guiding the pieces of glass into the nearby trash bin.

When Emma came back and saw the mess was gone, she stopped short and frowned, looking around. James tried to look as innocent as possible, but he could feel her eyes on him. He glanced over and, to his surprise, saw that she was smiling. But then she regained her wits and rolled her eyes, striding from the room.

Uncle Draco glanced sideways at him, chuckling. James looked over at him, scowling.

"What are you laughing at?" he grumbled.

"How long has it been going on, James?" he asked in a knowing tone.

James knew he was cornered. It had happened to him before when it came to Uncle Draco.

"Since third year." he muttered.

"Third year?" Draco scoffed, shutting his book. "My God, boy, and you haven't done anything?"

James scowled again, trying his best to fight the creeping redness in his cheeks. "Well - she - I - she has a boyfriend! And she hates me!" he sputtered, trying to keep his voice down.

"James, you idiot," Draco snapped, rolling his eyes, "You think her having a boyfriend matters? Win her over!"

This is why James liked getting advise from Uncle Draco - and Aunt Hermione, for that matter. They didn't have children, so they didn't have that annoying parental protection thing. They talked to him as if they were friends.

"Yes, well, you forgot the part where I said she hates me!"

"Excuses," Draco insisted, "She doesn't even hate you. Didn't you see that smile you were responsible for? She just thinks you're annoying - which you are most certainly capable of."

"You're not exactly aiding my ego here."

"Good, it needs to be taken down a notch."

"You know, you're not helping whatsoever."

He sighed. "Yes, alright, I'm sorry. Look, maybe you're so caught up in bantering with her and all that rubbish and trying to outdo her boyfriend, that that's all she sees you as."

"Sees me as what?" James scoffed.

He looked at him in mock-sadness and James felt the wave of teasing coming. Draco raised a hand sympathetically and canted his head. "An arse."

"Oh, come off it!" James exclaimed, rolling his eyes.

Draco shrugged and opened his book back up, muttering, "It's true."

"Oh, you just - _you're_ the arse!" he stammered indignantly.

"Takes one to know one, my boy."

James slouched in his seat again, accepting his defeat grudgingly with a pout. After a moment, he found new resolve as Emma walked out again, carefully setting the napkins down next to each plate as Aunt Hermione set out the silverware.

He leaned over to murmur, "Well, wouldn't you be a little intimidated in asking a girl out who was a whole lot smarter than you, and pretty much a better person all around?"

Draco snorted. "Well, I would know everything about that, wouldn't I? Hermione was the top of our class, a member of the Golden Trio, and had a heart of gold - still does," he murmured, shaking his head as he watched his wife. "She took me in when no one else would - and she had every reason to hate me. Wouldn't be surprised if she did at some points."

James frowned. "You know, I never really heard the story of how you and Aunt Hermione fell in love."

"Oh-ho, now, _that _is a story for another time, my boy," Draco chuckled, closing his book again. "Let's just focus on you and that lovely lady over there. Now, you're sure she loves her boyfriend?"

"Well, I don't know about _love_, but - "

"Good, good, there's no love. So the boyfriend shouldn't be a problem - "

James groaned in frustration. "Uncle Draco, that _is_ a problem! We're not all charming and handsome like you, you know!"

"Oh, James, stop acting like an insecure woman - "

"What is this, then?" Aunt Hermione asked, walking over to them with a look that said, 'I heard that last bit and I'm not exactly happy about it'.

Draco grinned at his wife as she sat down on the other side of James. "Oh, nothing, dear, just some love advice."  
"Oh, yes, I could tell," she said, pursing her lips as Draco. She turned her attention to James. "What, is this about Emma then?"

James gaped at them. "Am I really that obvious?" he cried.

Hermione smiled and patted his hand. "No, not so much, dear, I'm just a woman. And Draco, well, he's . . . you know."

James smirked at Draco, who raised his eyebrows at his wife. "I'm _what_?" he scoffed.

"Oh, nothing," she said breezily - they both knew it was payback for his 'insecure woman' comment. "Now, James, all you need to do is act nicer towards her. I've seen the way you two argue."

"But _she_ - "

"Nope, I don't want to hear it," she said, cutting him off cleanly. "You fancy her?"

James nodded dejectedly.

"Then you must woo her. Wooing does not include arguing. Bantering - perhaps. But not arguing."

"Oh, yes, you would know." Draco muttered and she sent him a challenging gaze.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, nothing." he mimicked her, smiling sweetly.

"You're pathetic."

"You're absurd."

"You're infuriating."

"You're obnoxious."

James rolled his eyes and grunted as he stood, leaving nothing between the lovely couple. He glanced back and they barely noticed him walking away. James had to admit - they really were perfect for each other. In a different way than his lovey-dovey parents, though.

James peeked into the kitchen and, speaking of, saw his Mum and Dad talking to Aunt Pansy, Uncle Blaise and Uncle Ron. As Mum laughed about something, James caught his Dad gazing at her with a slight smile as he inconspicuously slid his hand over hers on the counter. Mum looked at him with a smile and James looked away before they did something that would scar him. As he started off, he ran right into his little brother and sister, Albus (fifth year) and Lily (fourth year), who were snickering as they scampered along - that is, until they ran into James.

They straightened up immeidately, hiding something behind their backs.

"Oh, hey, James," Albus said nonchalantly. "We were just, uh - "

James rolled his eyes. "Do you realize who you are talking to? I am a pranster extraordinaire, and you are trying to fool me? Now, show me the goods."

They both sighed and revealed two pies, one apple and one pumpkin. James rolled his eyes again.

"Wow, very inconspicuous, that's probably - "

"We replaced them with two other joke pies from Uncle Fred and Uncle George's joke shop." Lily explained, smirking.

"Only from the best." Albus added with a grin.

James frowned appreciatively. "Hm. Not bad, little ones. Now, hurry and hide them, I'll cover for you."

Then, they shared a couple sneaky high fives and checked around for people (James was almost sure he saw Uncle Draco shake his head and roll his eyes from the couch), acting goofy all the while. His two younger siblings sneaked the pies back to a place where they could eat them later, James watching them all the while.

"You Potters are so predictable."

James let out a defeated breath and closed his eyes, turning. He opened them to find Emma standing there, her arms crossed in a victorious manner. _Wooing does not include arguing. Bantering - perhaps. But not arguing._

James shrugged. "In the blood."

She smirked and nodded, starting to go after Lily and Al. James stepped in front of her. "Not so fast, Zabini. My little brother and sister have just started their first prank, and I'm afraid I cannot let you ruin that." _Whether I'm supposed to 'woo' you or not,_ he added silently.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and raised her eyebrows. "Yeah? How are you going to stop me?"

James shrugged. "Whatever I have to do, I suppose."

She pursed her lips and tried to get by again, but he stepped in her path. She sidestepped the other way, but he blocked her again. She stopped and looked at him exasperatedly.

"Why do you have to ruin all the fun, Zabini? I mean, my God, you _are_ a teenager." James scoffed.

She sighed, searching his eyes for a moment. "_Fine_. But I have a reputation to keep up if I want to become Head Girl, Potter, so no one hears about this."

He grinned. "Your secret's safe with me."

"I'm sure it is." she muttered, turning and walking the way she came.

James' eyes followed her until she was out of sight. Then, his eyes fell on Uncle Draco who was watching him with a raised eyebrow over the couch. He smirked when they caught each others gaze and James rolled his eyes.

_Arrogant little_ -

"James," Mum said, sticking her head out from the kitchen, "Go freshen up before dinner - and find your brother and sister. They looked like they were up to no good last time I saw them."

"I had absolutely _nothing _to do with that." James offered, not very convincingly.

Mum gave him a look, pursing her lips. "Yes, I'm sure you didn't."

**XXX**

About thirty minutes after dinner, the adults were getting desert ready (little did they know about the trick pies that were timed to explode confetti in about half an hour) as the kids milled around, entertaining themselves in various ways. James lounged on the couch again, playing around with the first snitch he'd ever caught. (He'd had to bribe Madam Hooch pretty heavily to let him keep it). He released it, then caught it again, something that Dad had told him his Dad, James grandfather and namesake, had used to do.

James frowned slightly. Thinking about his granddad always troubled him. Dad said he saw a lot of the original James Potter in him, although Dad had never known him either. God, James really wish he could've met him (and his grandmum, of course) - being named after someone and never actually knowing them seemed to leave a sort of empty spot in you. But he supposed it was something he'd have to live with. Dad had to live without a father, so James could live without a grandfather. James would just have to content himself with the stories he heard and the trophies that were displayed in the Hogwarts Trophy Room - now the only remnants of who his namesake was. And he also had Grandma and Grandpa Weasley, who were grandparent-y enough for him.

James shook his head to rid himself of such thoughts and picked himself up from the couch. He whistled as he walked down to his room, tossing the now-wingless snitch up and down. Then, suddenly, the snitch sprouted its wings and zoomed ahead of him down the hallway and to the left.

"God damn snitch." he muttered, sighing and racing after it.

He caught sight of it flit into the last room on the left and he grumbled, running down the hall and into the room and -

He hadn't realized it was Emma's room she was staying in - usually it was just a guest room. And there she was, sitting on her bed clutching a letter, her head down. She was crying.

James forgot about the snitch, his face sobering as he caught sight of one of the tears falling from her eye to the page. Her head snapped up and she wiped her tears away hastily. But he already saw.

"Emma?" he murmured.

"What?" she asked, trying to sound like she was normal, sliding the letter behind her on the bed.

"Er - sorry, my snitch just - "

"Here." she muttered, picking it up from where it landed on the bed and handing it to him, not meeting his eyes.

He slowly took it from her, contemplating the right thing to do. "Are . . . you okay?" he asked.

She finally met his eyes and for a long moment she just kept them there, seeming to try and hold back tears. But when her eyes starting to well up again, she seemed humliated and ducked her head again.

"Yes."

"You're a terrible liar," he noted, but she didn't respond. He paused. "What's wrong?"

She looked back up at him and just let her tears fall. He knew she was wondering whether she should really tell him. Something on his face must've looked convincing enough, because she then confessed, "It's Damon," she sighed, putting the letter aside to occupy herself with something and not meeting his eyes. "Er, it turns out that he's found someone new over Christmas break and is ready to move on from me."

James had an overwhelming urge to tell her just what he thought of that complete shithead, but instead, he gently sat on the couch next to her, taking the letter and crumpling it in his hand.

Her head snapped toward his hand and he studied her carefully as he set it aside.

"You don't need him, Em," he murmured, "You're better than him. And if you don't know that, you're mad."

"It was just so long that we'd been together," she whispered, then looked up at him, almost desperately. "I know what you think of him, James, but he wasn't always like that, you have to know - "

"But it doesn't matter, Emma," he said, furrowing his brow. "If you're caught up in what he used to be, you'll never see him for what he is now. He's a pathetic, unintelligent, ignorant, bullying douche bag, and you are _too good_ for him."

She lifted her brilliant green eyes to him and her brow was slightly creased. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

He smiled and put his arm around her. "If you didn't know I have your back, I should've pranked you properly a long time ago."

She snorted. "What are you talking about? You always prank me."

"You call that pranking? You should've seen Trifler the week before the Slytherin-Gryffindor game. We'd permanently colored his skin red and gold, and he had to go to Madam Pomfrey to get it properly removed." he snickered.

She gasped. "That was you?" she laughed, "I only saw a glimpse of him in the hospital wing, but he wouldn't let me really look at him."

They laughed together for a second before he got an idea. He glanced at her.

"You know what you need?" he asked, standing. She stood with him, and he could tell she was in a much better mood. Her eyes were dry and she even looked excited for what he was about to say.

"What?"

He smirked. "Remember those pies?"

She laughed and he flicked his head to the door. "Let's go."

He started towards the door, but she lightly touched his hand. "James?"

He turned expectantly, and she suddenly stepped forward, lightly pressing her lips to his. He was taken aback but didn't pull away, of course - if he ever dreamed to kiss Emma Zabini, it was always him to her, not the other way around.

She leaned back. "Thank you." she whispered.

He grinned and took her hand. "C'mon."

**XXX**

And so him, Emma, Lily and Albus hid out in the back hallway and ate the pies out of the plates with spoons, laughing as they joked around with each other. But then, in the middle of their delicious dessert, they heard a _BOOM _from somewhere, presumably the kitchen, and followed shortly by a -

"KIDS! IN THE KITCHEN, _NOW_!"

They all snickered despite themselves, the rush of doing something they shouldn't making the situation even funnier than it was. And then they shuffled towards the kitchen, through the living room where they unknowingly passed Hermione and Draco, who were perched on the couch again, watching the kids with amusement as they passed through.

Then, they both noticed the most wonderful thing. Emma was walking slightly ahead of James, but she let her hand fall behind and he half-smiled softly, brushing his own fingertips to hers in the subtlest manner.

As they entered the kitchen to face their fate, Hermione turned her head to Draco.

"Well, it looks like we did good, then." she said happily.

"My God, the boy gets things done quickly." Draco noted lightly, frowning appreciatively.

"All the more power to him, I say." she said, snuggling closer to her husband.

"I agree, love." he murmured, kissing the top of her head.

_Because everyone deserved a love like the one we have_, he added in his head - but since the moment seemed to pass, he simply let it linger in his head, perfectly content with the fact that he didn't doubt it for a second.


End file.
